I Checked Out the Badboy's Boxers

(29) Dear Louise

They say death comes easy. I'm not so sure I believe that.

Louise Mireya Derivan past away in her sleep at supposedly one fourteen in the morning. Not a minute after she was observed by a few different doctors, she was confirmed dead. The minutes following, went practically in slow motion.

Death is supposedly a peaceful happening, but so far, I don't see any peace in it. And the things I do see, aren't anything less than catastrophic. She was young, lively, and overall undeserving of this.

I sit, leaning against the white, cold cement of a hospital wall, staring at the other white, cold cement wall, as I wait for Mason, who is young, lively, and undeserving of this all.

I sit emotionless. The others have gone home hours ago, but I remain. For him. Although he hasn't come out for hours. I don't have the energy to get up, get food, or do much of anything, actually. His pained face stains my mind, like the tears stain my cheeks.

Get yourself together Lexa, I try to tell myself. I didn't even know her that well, but I knew the kind of person she was, and the kind of son she could raise.

She did a damn good job with him.

I owe a lot to her.

Suddenly I feel a hand, making it's presence known on my shoulder. I turn around, "Mason."

He doesn't say a word, just wraps his arms around me in a bone crushing hug.

I return it, "Mase, how are you?"

He pulls away, and looks at me with bloodshot eyes, and a somber expression, "I'll be fine."

I reach for his hand and entangle my fingers in his, "Can I see her?"

He nods, "For a few more hours. Then the funeral planning starts."

"God.." I mumble, "You shouldn't have to go through this."

"Is this karma?" He asks me, "I've played so many girls so now it's my turn for life to play me? I fucked up so now life wants to fuck me over? I wish I was dead. I wish it was me."

"Stop talking like that." I pull him into the small corridor near the stairs.

Nurses walk by, some giving us questioning looks. I ignore them, and force him to sit down.

He looks at me, "Lex."

I sit on his lap and take his hands in mine, "You're not a bad person."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying."

"There's nothing you can say to make this any less shittier. She never did anything in her life to deserve this."

"I'm not saying she deserved it." I breathe, "But you don't deserve it either."

"I do."

"Mase, I can't, for the life of me, think of something you could've done that would equal the pain of this."

"Girls." He mutters, "I used them. I hated myself, so I made myself superior. I was what everyone wanted and couldn't have. I stole so many firsts, kisses, sex, everything girls can value in their high school years, I took that from them. And you know what I did then? I threw them away. I passed them around like pieces of paper, and then tossed them. And yet, they somehow claimed to love me. Bullshit, for the most part I didn't even care to pay attention to their names. Fuck, I'm fucked up aren't I. I don't know why I'm even telling you this."