Unforgivable Lacerations

Chapter Fourteen

I wasn't there when I slipped my black dress on as I retreated back into my peaceful numb. I had that one luxury at least, even if I didn't know what this pain reliever was. When my fingers were free, they would fumble with my locket, making sure that it was there- close to my heart at all times. It was only when I craved for their presence, Mom and Dad, that I would squeeze the fragile silver locket, wanting to smell their familiar scents, hear their voices, and have the pleasure of laying my eyes on them. Just one last time. 

There wasn't many arriving at the house before, only Phil's teammates, Mom's best friends, myself, and David and Linda. It was small and intimate, making the atmosphere less intimidating like it had been at Dad's funeral. 

Walking outside to the hearses was a challenge, one of the hardest I had ever done. I could feel a leaden weight of pain and grief wrapped tightly around my neck, dragging behind me, making me gasp for air whenever I could. But even that hurt, each time I would inhale and exhale, the movement of my lungs would trigger a pain not even pain relief could extinguish.

The colors, heat, and scenery meant nothing to me, as I climbed into the black car, as if everything beautiful and every purpose perished. Reds, greens, and blues became gray, sour and dark colors.

This world, which I had lived on for eighteen years, seemed a stranger to me.

I didn't recognize or register anything. I found myself stopped at the end of the drive. Two hearses were there. Two coffins were there. Two parents were there. One daughter was there. That's all that sunk through to my immobilized brain.

I carried on.

I didn't remember anything, I couldn't recall what happened at the church, or how I had made it to the cemetery, but here I was. Standing with my arms around myself. Phil was lowered first, and the cries and sniffs were everywhere, mainly from Linda. I understood her pain, even if she was a selfish person, I could empathize with her. 

Then it was my mom's turn.

When the preacher started to speak, one of the baseball team- a complete stranger- stood next to me and held me gently, while I sobbed and wailed. I pretended it was Edward holding me up, but today that didn't help.

It felt as if my whole world had imploded in, shutting me in this darkness I didn't understand. That one memory, of my mom being lowered into her final resting place, would haunt me for the rest of my life.

I stayed after, not watching the workers fill the holes but looking up at the sky. I was sitting on an uncomfortable wooden bench, not thinking, not listening, not seeing. I didn't see the reason for everything. I just had two golden eyes in my mind. 

They calmed me even when I was as distraught as I was.

*_*_*_*_*

Everyone understood why I couldn't meet up at the hotel- where most were staying- so we could converse. They knew I needed to be alone, even if I was being the slightest bit rude. 

Therefore, I returned back to the house nearly two hours after the service, it wasn't a long walk back, thankfully, and the dense, warm air did some justice at keeping me distracted. Unconsciously, throughout the whole journey, I kept my fingers around my locket as the tears streamed down my face. 

PLEASE! Someone help me! 

When I had returned back to the house, laying on my bed that needed to still be either sold or dumped, my phone rang- jolting me back to reality as I had been dreaming, stupidly, of what could have been. 

"Hello?" My voice sounded so unnatural, robotic in some sense. I cupped my throat, thinking it would help. 

"Isabella Swan?" a male asked, making me instantly nervous. Who was this man? Did he link to the heavy breathing that night? Or was this a police officer telling me more bad news? "It's Gary Fisher, the safety inspector for White Creek Cottage." I breathed out a sigh of relief, placing my hand on my thundering heart in an attempt to calm myself.