𝘽𝙪𝙗𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙢 || １８+

005 . .

TW; 

None. 

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I think I frightened some people at the funeral.

Including my brother, cause he has been asking me about it non stop.

We were walking our dog, Stassie in the park around the corner of our house. My walk quickened with each question he asked about it.

"Av, isn't it better if you find yourself something less dangerous? I don't think Shayla would like-" I cut him off as soon as I heard him saying her name. I didn't take shit when it came to hearing her name again. "Don't mention her name for my actions." I said in a cold tone as I glanced over at Stassie, the brown labrador walked infront of us in a happy pase as her tail wiggled while nosing around the park. Jonathan looked at me with a frown, now trying his best to keep up with my walk. "Jeez, are we running a marathon?" He said a frustrated tone, now keeping up with me again as we both looked infront of us. I didn't take the bait. "I'm trying to get away from you, since you ask so much questions. My decision is made, I will be the next crime solver in our family." I said in a stern tone, handing him the leash of Stassie as I walked up to the dog, that just did a poo in the field. I wrapped a plastic bag around my hand to pick it up and toss it away. While I did so, Jonathan walked up to me again, holding the leash of Stassie firm around his knuckles. "Avery, I will not stand there and watch you get killed too. If I lose you too, I don't wanna be here anymore." He said, his tone less frustrated but now harsh, as in a demand. I met his gaze as I stood straight again, his eyes were consisting some anger and hurt.

It's been a week after the funeral, yet Jonathan has been asking me questions about my speech non stop. There isn't a day going by without him asking me a dozen of questions about it. Since Shayla died he'd been more posessive about me. He didn't want me to go anywhere without him knowing exactly where I was. He also insisted on me calling everytime I'm on my way back home after school, just in case. He's going too far, but I don't wanna hurt his feelings by getting pissed at him for being such a psycho, because I can't blame him. He lost one of his sisters in a short time without actually knowing she was gonna die. It frightened both of us, but not our parents. They are too workaholic to bother. Our parents just got into their rythms again straight after the funeral. My dad even went to work the same night because 'duty called'.

Like, fuck duty. Your daughter just died.

I could strangle him. Based on Jonathan's reaction and seeing him bawling his fists, he could've done the same.

We both try to get over grief and get to move on, but it's so much harder than most people think. I never thought grief would hit me like a bullet the way it does right now. I've always been convinced that it was being sad the first week, but this grief feels like it's gonna last forever, as if there's never gonna be a chance for me to feel better.

Luckily, I can get comfort out of the fact I'm reading into the dossier of Shayla. Like I'm doing right now after we walked Stassie. I sat on my bed, the door of my room closed. This was the most recent one. It's not a big one, probably around five pages of some text and pictures of victims, but it brings me closer to the true identity of the killer. The person who did this all. The person who dared to lay a finger on my sister, when this person didn't know the concequences for his actions yet. I'm gonna make them burn, cause people who do bad things, have to be punished don't they?