With All My Heart → Transformers

Ready To Go?

*I don't own Transformers or anything affiliated with Transformers. I only own my original characters and plots. All rights go to Michael Bay and Steven Spielberg.*

This has been the absolute longest week of my entire life and it was only getting longer. I'd rather it just end though. As the days passed I only grew sadder and angrier. I knew that it was going to be remotely hard to live without Ethan in my life, but I just didn't think it was going to be so excruciatingly impossible. No one understood the amount of pain I received from just picking up my phone and wanting to talk to him only to realize that I couldn't. Nobody understood the amount of pain I received just from picking up a picture of the two of us from last summer and realizing that it would be one of the very last summer memories we'd ever have together.

I could be cliché and say that this all felt like just a horrible nightmare, but the amount of pain I was being forced to endure kept me from even so much as letting that thought cross my mind. Everything that was happening was all too real and the pain made it so. People claim that over time the pain goes away--my mom being one of those people--but I couldn't bring myself to believe her. They say you learn to live with the pain, but I wanted nothing more than to live without the pain.

Day after day I found myself craving absolutely anything that had to do with Ethan. I wanted nothing more than to hear his voice and to see him smile. I missed everything about him. I missed the way he would get mad at me when I messed with his hair or called him a mean name; I missed the way the corner of his eyes crinkled when he smiled; I missed the way his eyes lit up when he was happy about something, and I missed his personality. It was almost impossible not to miss his personality or anything about him, really. He was a very lovable--and now very missable--person.

I haven't really been very productive the past week. I've spent most of the week in my bedroom, only leaving it when I needed to use the restroom and get some water; I was too distraught to even think about eating anything. My parents and Nate were very worried about me though. I've had yet to even utter a word this entire week, but I just couldn't find the motivation to speak. Nate has actually been staying here at the house for the past week as well. My mom was okay with it, and surprisingly enough so was my dad. I overheard him telling my mom that he believed he was really good for me and he felt that maybe I'd have an easier time dealing with this if he was around. Yes, Nate was absolutely fantastic and he made me feel absolutely amazing, but I just couldn't find it in myself to be comforted by anything. It was almost as if my mind was blocking any good emotions that tried to make their way into my body.

Currently I was sitting on my bed playing with the worn bandages on my hands. Directly after the chair incident at the hospital I was being swarmed with doctors, including the one who took care of Ethan. Apparently the amount of blood from my hands made several of them think that I had attempted to kill myself or something when that was far from the case. I had two deep lacerations, one on each palm. Both were at least two inches long and stretched across the length of my palm. They didn't bother me much though. The emotional pain was so great that I couldn't focus on any kind of physical pain.

The sound of my door opening caused me to look up. My mom stood in the doorway completely dressed up and I frowned. She wore a pair of black high heels and a long sleeve black dress that reached to her knees. Her blonde hair was in loose waves over her shoulders and her makeup was done to perfection. I had no clue why she was wearing it though. In a few hours it would be ruined anyway. I highly doubted she would remain dry-eyed at the funeral. I mean, Ethan was like a son to her and she loved him to death just as he loved her. Her crying was inevitable.

"Are you ready to go, Kay?" she asked softly.

I looked away from her and focused back on my hands. I've absolutely been dreading this day for the past week. Today made everything so official; it made everything too official and I was not ready for it at all. Today I would have to say goodbye to him for good and even though I had to I just didn't think I wanted to do that just yet.

"Kay," my mom spoke quietly. It wasn't long before she was sitting in front of me on my bed. "Kay, please talk to me. I haven't heard you speak in a week. You're killing me, babe."

I just shook my head at her.

She sighed. "I know that it hurts right now, but you can't just shut everyone out like this. You don't understand how badly I wanted to when Braelynn died and when my mom and sister died, but I couldn't."

I shrugged in response.

"Trust me, Kay. It's so much better to let other people in when you're going through something like this; it helps the healing process."

This time I rolled my eyes at her. Everyone was different when it came to dealing with something like this.

"Your dad, Nate, and I are so worried about you. We hate seeing you like this," she said to me. I could tell by the sound of her voice that she was about to start crying.

I sighed and gave her cheek a soft pat before getting off of the bed. I grabbed my heels off the floor and headed out of my room. Both Nate and my dad were waiting downstairs which was to be expected.

"I take it you're ready to go?" my dad asked as I stepped off of the final step. He was wearing a suit which was appropriate, of course, but it was weird for him. I didn't dare comment on it though. Instead, I just nodded and walked out the front door. I was more than ready to get this over with.