Heartbreak

5 | Algea

v.

The Algea:

The three daemones, or spirits, of pain and suffering

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Soundtrack:

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Lupa:

Spirit of pain, grief, and sadness

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Bonnie stood at the back of the crowd of people, keeping a careful distance away.

A floor length black dress covered her body, the loose fabric floating in the wind around her. A big flowy hat rested on her head, her deep red hair loose and lightly curled into waves that framed her face. A pair of big sunglasses hid her makeup free face, as well as her red, swollen, tear filled eyes.

Bonnie's teeth nibbled at her lower lip, ripping the delicate skin until the taste of copper filled her mouth. Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides, her arms held stiffly and her shoulders slightly raised - she was ready to run if she had to.

She wasn't supposed to be here.

But how could she not?

Bonnie looked forward, through the crowd of people standing to watch the event unfolding before them. The deep male voice droned on and on, his voice carried towards Bonnie on the wind, but none of the words registered with her. She heard the sobs and sniffles coming from various places in the crowd. She saw people holding each other, hands clasped together in a show of support, heads resting on shoulders, arms wrapped around torsos.

She heard the unmistakably loud, heartbroken cry of a mother who lost her son.

Bonnie was miles away, her eyes unfocused, staring at the dark brown box covered in roses.

The preacher continued on with his speech, describing the various attributes and traits of Elliot Castaneda. Her Leo.

Tears poured down Bonnie's face as she heard about his charity work, his various sports activities, his volunteering, his wonderful academics - all good things, but all fake.

That wasn't what made the real Leo.

Leo was more than all of that. He was ice cream filled summer nights and hot chocolate winter days, he was hip hop dance lessons for little kids and kisses on bruises and scraped knees from said dance lessons, he was hiking trips down unmapped paths because "how else are you going to carve your way in life if you follow a path someone else laid out instead of one you've made on your own?"

He was drunk kisses and love filled sex and drugged laughter. He was random road trips and singing at the top of your lungs and going on adventures. He was knuckles cracking before any major event because "we got this." He was tears whenever an animal died in a movie, he was fist pumps when the guy got the girl, he was laughter at scary scenes because, "oh, come on! That's nothing but fake blood and CGI effects. I could do better than that."

He was trips to Whataburger at three in the morning, hours upon hours getting lost amidst the maze that is Ikea, tours of zoo's and museums and monuments. He was random history facts and knowledge and wisdom. He was strawberry Fanta and chicken strips dipped into ranch. He was dark black hair with one strand always curling on his forehead, "like Superman!" He was dark green eyes and full pale pink lips and dimples.