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!!warning: this chapter contains a suicide attempt scene!! read at your own risk.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: GRIEF: A FUNNY THING
"John B and Sarah are dead."
The rain poured down behind Emma, away from the balcony. She stood in front of Rafe and the words echoed through her head as she stared at him, a disbelieving look on her face. She forced herself to laugh, to pretend it wasn't real, to pretend he was lying to her. "That's really funny."
He shook his head as he stared at her. A tear rolled down his cheek. "No, Emma, it's true. John B and Sarah took a boat into the storm. They're gone."
That's when she started to tremble. Seeing the tearful look in his eyes, the melancholic expression, the grieving countenance on his face. "What— what do you mean?" Shuddering, she shook her head and tried to compose herself, but she couldn't. She felt like a bullet hit her chest because the pain was inevitable. "Why? No," She let out a sob. "Rafe, no. They're alive— they're... John B's still here."
Denial. The first stage of grief. The way she tried to pretend it didn't happen. She was failing as her face fell and the tears streamed down her cheek. A lump grew in her throat and her chest tightened. "Fuck. No..." Her legs gave in and she dropped on the floor, on her knees. Her hands went to her chest as she tried to control the aching pain in her chest, but she couldn't. It hurt so badly. Rafe immediately went to her side, holding onto her like she was a piece of glass ready to shatter. Or prhaps, a piece of glass that had already shattered. "No! He can't be dead, he can't!" Emma screamed as she cried.
Rafe held her tightly, his hands running over her back to try to console her. But it wasn't working. She just lost her brother and her new friend. She lost her brother without saying a proper goodbye. Without even knowing that he'd take a boat into the water. Emma has never hated anyone more than herself right now.
"I can't—" She was hyperventilating now. She couldn't handle it, but her boyfriend softly shushed her, like he was consoling a baby. It brought out the anger inside of her because she wasn't finding any comfort in his touch. "Don't fucking touch me!" She screamed, shoving him away and running back to the room.
Anger. That was stage two. She was angry at the world. Angry at John B for leaving and killing himself just because he didn't want to get arrested for something he did. Emma hated it, how he gave up and got himself killed. She was so frustrated and sad and everything was falling apart.
"Emma!" He called out, chasing after her. But she didn't stop. She couldn't think straight and she felt a lot of adrenaline course through her body as she ran out of the house and into the street, where the storm had gone worse.
