loml - Walker Scobell

14. the funeral

wesley died from an overdose that evening after i went to aryans. he was found in the bathroom downstairs on the first floor of our house. my mother found him and screamed for my father. he immediately called 911 as she broke down and cried on the floor, him crying and freaking out as well.

they tried calling me so many times, of course, but my phone was on silent and i was with aryan. the one time i put my phone down and turned off the notifications and phone calls i didn't expect anything to happen. i've been crying myself to sleep every night since then. two nights after the incident, i finally answered aryans multiple texts asking if everything was okay, and i told him the truth like my parents did in the hospital. he immediately came over and held me while we fell asleep and i sobbed. i sobbed and sobbed. just when i feel like i can't sob anymore, i just keep crying. my parents are so very hurt. they are so drained and have mopped around and cried just like me. everything has officially gone to shit.

its only been a few weeks since wesley died. none of us dared to touch any of wesleys things yet. we just couldn't bare to do it. all i could think about was that i made plans to go out to dinner with wesley the next day before i left for aryans. was he planning to do it already when i was leaving? did he know he was going to do it for days? weeks? months? i had so many questions that would remain unanswered forever because he wasn't here anymore to answer them.

i've been blaming myself everyday since. i have been wondering what would have happened if i didn't go to aryans that day. if i would have just stayed home i could have done something. maybe he wouldn't have even done it if i was home. i could have at least delayed his plan or something. anything. i could have done anything but instead i went to aryans and shut off my phone.

~

wesleys funeral is today. i wasn't ready. i don't think i would ever be ready. but i had to be for him. for wesley. he would want me to go on with my life, i just know he would. but right now, i still couldn't believe he was dead.

i put on my best black dress that fell just above my knees. i cried for a while before trying to apply makeup. i tried to hold it together while i put it on, but i started to cry again and i broke down. i threw my makeup products across the room and felt like ripping my hair out. i aggressively wiped all of the makeup from my face off and i sobbed and kicked things around my room. i blamed myself. my parents could be blaming me too for all i know. i threw my vanity chair to the ground and kicked the clothes on my floor that i couldn't bother to pick up the last few days. i fell back into the wall and slowly slid down it. i landed on my butt and curled my knees into my body, dropping my head and crying for the tenth time today. i couldn't stop crying.

did wesley do it to put himself out of misery? was he hurting more than any of us thought? or did he do it because he just didn't want to be here anymore. i had so many questions. so many questions.

we arrived at the funeral home for the viewing, that wasn't really a viewing. my parents decided on a closed casket, they just couldn't bare to see their baby boy in the casket. i don't think i would have been able to handle it either if i saw wes lying lifeless in front of me and many other people.

just about my whole family tree was there, the simhadris, the scobells excluding walker and heather, a bunch of my friends, friends of my parents, a bunch of wesleys old friends before he pushed them away when he was hurting, and a few people i of course didn't recognize. i bet the wesley before the painful version of himself would be so giddy that all these people came together and arrived for him. i just wish he were happy. we used to be best friends.