Snowdrop Boy

11: "Let's do this together"

POV: Unknown

I watched her sleeping peacefully in the king-sized bed. Her head lying on a velvet pillow with hair ever so slightly covering her face. She was on her side, wearing only what used to be jeans and a ripped shirt. I had to cut her jeans into shorts to tend to the wound on her thigh.

I let me eyes explore her body. Starting at her petite feet, toenails painted a light blue, and slowly up her calf. I decided to reach out and trail my hand softly along her lower leg. She was pale, but had gloriously smooth skin. My hand explored further to her Chicago thighs and hovered slightly on her bandaged wound as if I could heal her with touch. I was at her waist now and wished so desperately that I could wrap my arms around her slender form. Instead of stopping there, I went further. Quickly glancing to her eyes to be sure she was asleep, my hand gently glided over her arm until I had finally made it to her head. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear like I had last time we met, I caressed her bruised cheek tenderly. Soaking up all her features as I began to sing a song true to the warmth passing through me, making me feel at home.

"I'm addicted to the way I feel when I think, of you..."

****

POV: Izz

"Are you ready sweetie?" My mum called, leaning against the doorframe to my room. I looked at my pale reflection in the mirror and slid a thin black cardigan over my shoulders, It's bleak colour matched my dress.

"Yeah" I sighed and faced my mother. She could see the tears forming in my eyes and quickly bundled me up in a protective hug.

"I don't want to do this mum" I sobbed into her damp shoulder.

"I know honey, no one should have to go to their friend's funeral. Especially not at your age" she pulled back and wiped the mascara stained tears off my cheeks. "Come on" she grabbed my hand and took me down the stairs where my father and brother were waiting. As soon as my mother let go of my hand, James ran up to me and tackled me in a hug with his head resting on my chest. Although my brother can be and idiot sometimes, he knows when I need him. I let my hand stroke his hair as a squeezed him tight, wondering what it would be like if I had died and not Rosie. I let that thought go as we slowly made our way to the car.

The journey was silent the whole way and I looked out the window from start to finish. I watched the leafless trees flash by under the grey sky as we drove with speed. I'm glad my father was driving fast for once, I needed to get this over and done with.

Once we had arrived, I could see family and friends of Rosie's. Some people I knew, others I didn't. I think they were just there to comfort family, to say false "I'm sorry"s and offer unfriendly arms to the grieving. They weren't really there to mourn for Rosie, and neither was I. Like I said, I know she isn't dead. I got out of the car and was immeadiatly greeted by Jess and Mila, both wearing black dressing like my own. We hugged briefly, then I pulled back to looked at their puffy red eyes and frowned.

"You do realise that she isn't really dead?" saying it as if they were stupid not to know. All they did was share worried glances and opened their mouths to speak but was interupted by Rosie's mother. She looked a mess. She had a tissue in her hand and a red nose from constantly blowing it. Her eyes were bloodshot and watery with dark circles etched into her skin just below them.

"How are you gir-" was all she could choke out before sobbing into her tissue. I just rolled my eyes and laughed a little. Did she really believe her daughter was dead? My laugh must have been louder than I thought because when I looked back the frail woman was glaring at me.

"Did you just laugh?" she hissed. Panic suddenly ran through me and I tried to explain but it came out as a jumble of words. "How dare you laugh at a time like this! Do you have any idea what I am going through?" she spat as she yelled in my face.

I was taken aback by her rage but retorted with some rage of my own, "You see, it's not all about you." I pointed a finger at her chest, completely losing it, unaware of the source of my sudden emotion. "You think that just because you lost your daughter, it means that all of us have to take pity on you. Well guess what? We're not going to do that! Do you know why? It's because Rosie isn't even DEAD!" I stood back and took deeps breaths. I studied the woman's face that had sadness written all over it. 

"Oh love I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry..." she whispered and grabbed me for a hug. With her arms wrapped around my head, she rocked us gently side to side. "Izz... you know she's gone. I know it's hard to accept that, I know it's hard but-" she pulled away to wipe the tears from my face that I didn't even know were there. "We just have to move on, okay?" It was her turn to cry. I watched the hot tears run down her slightly wrinkled cheeks and simply nodded. Maybe she was right. Maybe Rosie really was gone. However I couldn't dwell on that thought as the church bells signified the start of the service.

"Come on" Rosie's mother grabbed my hand and lightly squeezed it. "Lets do this together" and with that, we walked into the gloomy church. The first thing I noticed was the empty space where the coffin would have been. I frowned but stayed silent, still holding the hand of my 'dead' best friend's mother. We sat down near the front and watched in silence as the ceremony began. My mind drifted away sometimes but was brought back to my body every now and again when I heard the whimpers of people in the room. This service is a waste of time, I thought. Rosie isn't dead, she's just-

"Isabel?" the priest's voice invaded my thoughts. "Would you like to say a few words about your friend?" he looked at me expectantly. I sighed and stood up, making my way to the alter I caught an encouraging glance from my mother. Something I didn't really need. Looking at the mass of black in front of me, I thought of which route I should go down in this eulogy. Should I say what everybody wants to hear? Or should I speak the truth? I went with the first option.

"Rosie, was..." I began to tell the people what they wanted. I went on about how grateful I was to have her in my life and how she helped me through tough times, both which are true, but I couldn't help but feel as though I was lying. I knew deep down that Rosie was still alive, so, halfway through the service I broke.

"Do you know what? I've had enough!" I slammed my fist on the alter, a few gasping in response. "Rosie isn't dead, why would she be dead?" I laughed. "Do you really think I'm stupid enough to believe the lies those men told me? Do you all really think I'm that stupid?" I looked at the stunned faces in front of me. "I mean, come on. Do you see a coffin anywhere here? Do you?!" I pointed around the dreary little church. I must look crazy but I just needed to get this out. Rosie can't be dead, she just can't its not possible!

My mother stood up, "Isabel-"

"No mum, I'm serious! Why isn't she here? If was really dead, then why isn't her body here?" I started to break down and fell to my knees clutching the alter. 'Why?!" I cried into my arm. A second later I was pulled up from the ground by my father's strong hands. He guided my towards the exit of the church and through my watery eyes I could see the sympathetic looks from Rosie's family.

Once we had gotten outside I took a deep, shaky breath in an attempt to calm myself down. However it didn't help at all. I quickly clutched onto my father and violently shook as I sobbed my heart out into his chest. He rubbed my back and whispered that "it was okay" but I ignored all of that. I was just left with a burning question in my mind; what if Rosie really was dead?

[AN: Hello beautiful people! I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in months but I have been busy with exams and life. I hope this chapter makes up for it though and I really hope you enjoyed it. Feedback is really helpful and if your feeling generous then please vote.

Bye my little pineapples!

P.S. Meeting Tyler Oakley was great if anyone cares...]