EPILOGUE
Pooled on his desks were his tears, a small puddle of sorrow and anger. His hand trembled as he wrote a few words on a piece of notebook paper, a few words to describe just how James felt about Jane. This little piece of paper would be his key to letting her go. The words took eons to write, though he only had three. He folded the paper carefully, not wanting to tear his own heart out.
He shoved the note deep in his pocket and grabbed his tie on the corner bedpost. Swiftly knotting it around his neck, he found his way to the funeral.
A drunken man stumbled into the funeral home, a pocketknife barely visible in his breast pocket. Blundering across the room he made his way to the casket, closed for the ceremony; Jane wouldn’t want it any other way. The last memory of someone should not be a dead and cold picture.
James stood in the farthest corner of the room, hiding his face from classmates and parents. He didn’t want them to see his tears; they made him feel vulnerable.
A distinct ‘clink’ noise resounded when he opened his knife, not really caring if anyone saw him to do it.
The casket creaked and groaned with each letter, as he meticulously carved everything into it. You could hear Jane cry from wherever she was, you could hear James take calming breaths, you could hear the stares of the crowd.
B-I-T-C-H.
Written in cracked and long gaited letters, it spelled out her nightmares.
“She needs to go the grave with her name,” he murmurs under his breath.
Howard staggered back, falling onto his knees. The liquor hadn’t done much; only lessen the guilt he was being tailed by.
The other boy, in the back of room, ran outside. Digging the note out of his pocket, he ripped it into a million different shreds, but not before reading it out loud.
“I love you.”
Smiling up above, Jane cried tears of sunshine. In her final words before she ascended to a greater place, to whatever that may be. A final gust of wind blew through James hair.
He could have sworn it sounded like, “I love you, too.”
YOU ARE READING
My Name is Bitch
RomanceJane lived in a broken home, a broken family and walked to school every day with either her heart broken or her ribs. Sometimes both.