They Do Exist

They Do Exist (3)

Chapter three:I’m With You –Avril Lavigne.

Layla’s POV, Cemetery.

When we arrived, other people were arriving as well.They all filed out of their cars, dressed in black.

Hm…I didn’t know my Grandma was such a popular person.

My mom took my hand and squeezed it.“You’re a lot like her you know.”She whispered to me as she waved at a few people she knew.

“I am?”Her statement was kind of surprising.I know I always wanted to be like Grams, but didn’t know that I was anything like her.

“Sure.Your just as spirited and feisty and you have the trademark Weston blue eyes.”She nudged me.It was true, my grandmother, my mother, and I all had the same deep blue eyes.

“Ha.Thanks.”I said smiling for the first time today.

“I think she knew that too.She always looked at you like you were her mini me.It was cute, the bond you two shared.”I nodded, noticing a pang of jealousy in my mom’s voice.

Her and Grandma never really got along.My grandmother hated my father with a burning passion, and told me once I turned eighteen I would move out of the house and come live with her.Which she rightly should.He was a complete asshole, but my mother was blinded with what she thought was love.She was getting old, thirty by the time she met my father, and she was quick to marry and have children.

My grandma joked the only good thing that ever came out of the two of them getting together, was me.

The minister walked us to her burial site, and I saw the coffin in the distance.Black and sleek.I couldn’t help but know that if my grandma had a choice, she’d rather be cremated, with her ashes thrown out at sea.She loved the ocean, as well as the earth.A nature-lover I guess you could call her.

I stood in the front center with my mom, and my dad came up behind us a few short minutes later.

Even though it was the most appropriate time to cry, I just couldn’t.It felt all wrong.This place, these people.I had a feeling none of them really knew her like I did.Not even my own mom.But she was balling away.I just stood still, my jaw clenched, my mind racing, time frozen.

“We are all gathered here today to remember the life of Abigail Laureen Weston.”The minister said.I smiled slightly.My name was derived from my grandma’s middle name, Laureen pronounced (lar-een, with a long ‘e’.)Laureen, Layla, Laureen…see the similarity?

“She was a free spirited, and courageous woman.No one believed that her time would come this soon.Though her memory will forever live on in the hearts of her loved ones.At this time, if you have something to say about Abigail, then come forward and speak your words of care, remorse, and love.”

My mother stepped forward first.“Mom,” she started.“I know we never really got along, but you were always there for me.”Her voice cracked with tears.“You never stopped believing in me, and you would never hesitate to tell me how much you loved me.I realize now, that you were the best mother anyone could ever ask for.”

“And I hope that in the after life, they treat you with just as much love as you treated everyone else.I love you.”She finally said, tears falling down her face as she touched the coffin lovingly.

After that a few other people stepped up.Co-workers at the nature museum she worked at mostly.

One boy stepped up.He looked to be about my age with blonde hair and gray eyes.He looked at her coffin like I did, in paralyzed silence.But it broke as he let out a few words.