Do or Die | A Slipknot story

chapter fourteen

Life is confusing sometimes. No, scratch that. Life is always confusing. I mean, one day, you're all happy, dancing on a rainbow with ponies, and the next, you're laying on a street bench, crying under thunder clouds.

My life had taken a major turn within about two weeks. I was as happy as I had ever been, until I went to school only to be called to the office in the middle of the day. I left school that day, heartbroken.

No words could describe my pain. No words could describe everybody's pain. We all felt it, we were all heartbroken. If I wasn't depressed before, I sure was now.

No words were spoken throughout the whole car ride. There was nothing to say. For the first time almost ever, I didn't put makeup on, I didn't make an effort to do my hair, and I didn't want to go anywhere for any reason.

I sat in the back of that car with out of control, tangled, curly hair, with no makeup to cover the acne that decided to appear on my face, and dressed in only a pair of black tights, a plain black tee shirt, and a black skirt. There were no converse on my feet, I wore a pair of plain black slip ons. I sat back there with no music blaring into my ears, and nothing to cover past scars on my wrists. With nothing but a piece of paper in my shaking hands, I sat in the car with eight other men, allowing my tears to flow.

How? Why? Why did this happen? Why do we have to go through this? Why, just why?

I hadn't accepted it yet. I feared I wouldn't accept it. How could I accept that? How? Who could accept the death of your fathers best friend?

Paul Gray. The name itself makes me burst to tears. He was like the rubber band that kept the cards of Slipknot together.

The car finally parked in a parking space. We climbed out of the car, me last, and everyone trying to encourage me to hurry. Once my feet hit the pavement, my sweaty fingers tightly grasped the slim piece of paper as I followed the other eight men.

When I was stood in front of Paul's casket, my tears never ceased as I placed the paper atop of it. On the paper, was a picture of me and Paul three months ago. I had another copy, to keep for myself, of course.

A little over two hours later, the funeral was over, and everyone departed from the grave. I ended up sitting in front of it, the guys at the car waiting for me.

"Paul," tears spung to my eyes as I spoke." Thank you. Thank you for all you did here with us. Thanks for caring for me, and thank you for convincing my dad to take me in. I don't know what I would've done if it wasn't for you here. You stopped me from self harm, and I can't thank you enough. I hope you like your new home, Paulie. Thank you, and I love you, Paul" I choked out, laying down on the ground. My dad came over and lifted me off the grass in my crying state. I buried my head into his chest while he carried me over to the remainder of our group, carefully placing me back in my seat.

For the rest of that day, we did what any upset family would do.

We cried. And cried. And cried.

a/n - I'm so sorry this chapter is insanely short. I felt it didn't need to be so long, considering I was only trying to cover thus one scene. Sorry, I'll post another update asap.

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