The Dead Among Us

60. The Funeral

Sabin's POV 

Today is Ava's funeral service. 

If I weren't such good friends with Jothan and her I wouldn't be going. I don't have the stomach for it. 

My soul is aching; I can't fathom why Bri would kill herself. It feels like a chunk of my heart has been ripped from my body, leaving an oozing wound that will never be filled. 

At first, I thought she fell. She did enjoy being there, watching the giant waves crash against the boulders. She always used to say, "Nature is a beast that will always win."

But Jon seems to believe she jumped... 

If that's the case... I have so many questions.... questions I will never get the answers to... They will haunt my days for the rest of my life... 

Was she unhappy with me?... she never showed it... 

Or was it the ghosts from her past? ... was I not enough to keep them at bay? 

Was it bronzeclaw? .... should I never have brought her here? 

I was only trying to protect her. Was I hurting her in my efforts? 

I'm in the bathroom, adjusting my tie in front of the mirror when Ken silently approaches me. He presents his own tie and asks for help in such a soft voice that I almost didn't hear him.

Finishing with my tie, I wordlessly assist him. As I lift his collar and position the tie around his neck, I can feel his eyes fixed on me with a mix of pain and compassion.

I try to avert my gaze, not wanting to succumb to my emotions again. However, something he says breaks through my resolve. 

"Sabe...I-I'm so sorry..." 

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, feeling the ache in my lungs. Securing his tie, I finally manage to respond, "It's not your fault, buddy..."

He doesn't say anything, waiting for me to finish. Then, as I smooth out his tie, he steps forward and unexpectedly flings himself into my chest. My foot shifts back to catch my balance, taken aback by his sudden action.

As I hear his sobs, one of my hands wraps around the back of his neck and the other around his shoulder, holding him tightly. My head presses against his, offering silent comfort.

I'm not sure how I keep it together, but I stuff it back down my throat and solely offer my comfort.

He doesn't cry long. I sense him doing the same thing I'm doing and force himself to stop. I wish he wouldn't do that. He does it too much—he's bottling too much in all the time—and then he explodes. 

 "Come on, buddy... let's go downstairs," I tell him with a shaky voice, wiping his tears away and then kissing his head.

He nods while fixing his face and then re-aligning his hair how he wants it.

We descend the stairs, my arm wrapped around his shoulder. Everyone is dressed and waiting to leave in the living room except Jon. I'm not sure where he is.

I notice Fa a bit off to the side, trying her best to button a jacket on and struggling because of her right hand. I approach her and take hold of her coat, silently helping her. She does the same exact thing Kenny did and glances up at me, searching my face.

She reaches out and wipes something out of my hair—one of Kenny's hairs had clung to my curls.

We stand there for a moment, just staring into each other's eyes. She holds so much concern and empathy for me. I can't imagine the mess she's seeing back in mine.