Storyteller

Chapter 32

Tim POV: 

Standing in the graveyard right now feels a little deafening. The sky is oddly clear, on a day I'd expect storm clouds looming. Lots of people showed up to pay their respects, and the girls made a point of introducing themselves to every single person here, while I stand in front of her casket like a ghost. My stomach is stiff, and my arms feel heavy.

I spot Carrie across the way, and decide to make a simple request. I walk over slowly, to where she and Mike stand. She looks at me with a little hesitation at first, before allowing me to speak. 

"I know you and Faith used to write." I say, to be met with a slow nod. "I want to write with you. I need to write with you... I've been trying, and nothing is coming out on paper, and I need it out." I sound insane as I try to describe it, but somehow she understands. 

"I'm free tomorrow, if that works?" She suggests. I nod. 

"Thanks." I spare a smile. I can tell she's been crying. They were close. 

A car door slams, causing my head to turn toward the drive that runs through the cemetery. I freeze, as I begin to recognize her thin stature. It's her mother... She and I lock eyes, making my chest sink almost immediately. She hovers over the casket, pretending to be the mourning mother for a while. 

The service is quick, per Faith's request, but everyone stays around after to talk, and offers their condolences. The girls seem to be in good spirits. They prepared themselves for her passing, since she was getting so sick, but they didn't expect that she'd go like that. With that said, they've handled it well. 

"Tim." I hear her mother's voice behind me. I cringe, before taking a deep breath. "Can we speak for a moment?" She requests. I shake my head. 

"I have a lot to take care of today, it's not a good time." I say, dismissing her. She follows me as I walk toward the car. She decides to take a new approach

"How dare you..." She starts to shout loudly, attracting everyone's attention. "You beat her relentlessly, until she was driven to kill herself... How dare you show your face here... How dare you look those children in the eyes..." She screams, making me feel as if I was being pricked by a billion tiny pins all over my body. I look at the girls, and see Gracie wince. I take a deep breath, and try to ignore her, but she continues the raid. "I told you to stay the hell away from my baby... And you didn't... Look where that got her... Forty-five and committing suicide." I cringe, feeling like I've been punched in the chest. 

"Stop." I turn toward her and demand quietly. 

"No. Not until you tell me why my daughter shot herself in the head." She screeches. I shut my eyes tightly, before taking a deep breath and fulfilling her request. 

"She had terminal brain cancer. She was in pain, and she was unable to remember important things at given times. She was miserable, and decided to take control." I say calmly, Carrie watching me closely. I would love to point out that she hasn't spoke to her "baby" in more than a decade, but this is not the right place or time. Her mother remains silent for a moment, granting me a small ounce of sanity for the day. 

Carrie and I sit awkwardly in the room where she and Faith used to write. She can't help but see me as a bit of a villain still, and I understand that. I caused her best friend a lot of pain. Her nose sniffles, as she sits somberly. She looks at me, before digging for something in her bag. She places a thick journal on the table, which holds other papers that had been shoved in there. She opens it up to a certain page, before pointing to it. 

"I don't understand why she stayed, but I know that she loved you... a lot. She wrote this a while ago and showed it to me." She says, giving it to me.