Complete Undoing

ONE

Sorrow, a feeling of deep distress caused by loss. Sorrow is what I'm supposed to feel on days like today.

But all I feel is.. Relief..

Some might say that it's a part of some sort of grieving process, and others might call me heartless since it is my mother that's laying peacefully in a casket while the whole town pays their respects and fake condolences for my families loss.

It's not like I'm jumping for joy at my mother's death, but I'm not crying either.

I glance over towards my brother as he talks with one of the ladies of the church. I can tell he's uncomfortable being here and all, considering how my mother treated him.

How she treated both of us.

It's no secret that Tate is my half sibling. His mom left right after he was born. Leaving him with our dad until my mom came in the picture when he was four.

I guess that's why everyone is expecting me to be some sobbing mess over my own mother and not Tate.

Unfortunately for them, if I could, I'd hike up my dress and piss on her grave.

Sadly, that's going to have to wait until this shit show of a funeral ends.

For the past week since my mother passed, I've been getting at least 2-3 hours of sleep. Waking up drenched in sweat caused by a hazy nightmare that seemed more like a past memory.

They all say it'd get better with time. My dad, Tate, my best friend Amelia, and even my therapist all agree that it'd just be an encompassing sense of grief and all the what ifs.

But it's neither.

I was supposed to go to Amelia's that day, and I did.. After. After, I just couldn't take it anymore.

Maybe it was impulsive. Maybe it was just the shock and adrenaline of the thought of actually going through with it.

Sometimes, it gets hard, too hard. It's so hard that I can't breathe properly.

The other times, I'm too busy hiding and looking over my shoulder to see if that shadow will appear.

I can't look my dad in the eye and lie to him. Can't face him after what I did.

What his little girl did.

Their really hasn't been a Tilly Carson. Just masks I disguise myself with to hide one awful truth.

Now, however, it's two.

I believe a part of me died that day along with my mother. The part that had hope for anything else perished when her heart stopped beating a week ago.

And I can't face the horrifying fact that they'll all know soon. That the daughter and sister is nothing more but an imposter.

I told myself I wouldn't be here today, but I'd look too suspicious. Or maybe it's a last attempt to expel the hatred I held for her.

The wood under my palm feels smooth, and the lifeless woman laying in white makes my stomach churn.

She shouldn't look so peaceful after making the last 18 years of my life hell.
But even in death, mommy dearest still pulled off the innocent facade she perfected over the years.

"Beautiful." Comes a deep voice dripped in honey, but it's fogged with lethality of poison.

My eyes slide to his deadly confident ones, and I gulp.

Maybe I'll meet my downfall quite sooner.

The longer I stare, the more I notice his eyes are just about dull and lifeless as my mothers.

"Not you, your mother."

Why would he be here? His kind doesn't venture down this way without a reason.

"What.. what are you doing here?" I force to speak in my no-nonsense tone even though his presence makes me nervous and always leaves me in a fragile mental state.

"What does it look like." He speaks with utter ease, like he didn't just crash a funeral. "I'm here to capture the essence of death."

My mouth hangs open as I try and piece together what just came out of his mouth. Did he just say he wanted to capture my mother's dead bodies essence?

I have too many questions but not enough reason to ask since this is him of all people. The ultimate question is, why is he speaking to me?

Lexington Ledger gives off these criminal vibes, master manipulator of all things controlling, and he lurks in the shadows waiting, and I need to get out of his path now. But I still ask, "Why?"

He raises an eyebrow in question, not expecting me to ask but to actually run.

"I try and see a person's absolute truth. The dead are easier to read than the living." He takes a cigarette out from behind his ear and lights it, tip burns a rich orange and takes a long drag before slowly releasing it.

"You can't smoke in here." I choke out. I hate the smell of cigarettes, but I hate the way they made the tiny little marks they left on my arms more.

"Who's going to stop me?"

I glance around and notice that the church is empty, leaving only us.

They will be here shortly to take the body away to the burial sight, but why is he still here?

My lips purse, and I force myself to remain calm, even though I can feel my scars burning with each drag he takes.

"You can drain out all the blood, pump her full of embalming fluid, and cake her face full of makeup, but you can't take away all the evil she has inside." He takes another drag of the toxic fog. "I can see it dripping from her pores."

My gaze strays to the half smoked cigarette, then to his half vacant eyes.

He slowly takes my hand in his and runs his thumb over my wrist. The action caused my heart to beat so loud that I thought it'd rip from my rib cage.

Then he let's go.

Before I could ask anything, he did something that surprised the hell out of me.

He takes his cigarette and puts it out harshly in between my dead mothers eyes and turns to walk away without sparing me another glance.