Kidnapping her Heart

KHH hiatus :) & A/N <3

hey guys, Kristy here! :) sooo ive been sorta busy lately with some things going on and its been affecting my writing so i couldn't upload this week :( not to mention my horrible writers block is contributing to this but yeah whatevs right? LOL i know, i suck... balls... LOL so anyways, i wanted to apoligize and PROMISE the next chapter will be up NEXT FRIDAY! :) FO SHO! :D ANYWAYS... i wrote this a while back and would appreciate feedback... who knows, maybe it'll be my next story! THANKS :) xoxo much love! <3

Title TBD :)

“Let us commend Trevor Burkley to the mercy of God,” Father Christopher stated as my beloved brother’s coffin lowered into the earth. "We therefore commit his body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in the sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life."

I bit my lip and turned away from the scene, tears threatening to spill over my eyes. My brother, MY Trevor was dead. This wasn’t happening…

“Erin,” a stern voice faltered behind me, “Come back this instant.” I shook my head at my mother and slowly began to retreat from this nightmare, turning my back on the ones that said they would be there for me. Bull, the only person I ever cared about was dead…

I ran from the cemetery to the neighborhood playground six miles away. It was times like this where I thanked the lord that I was a cross country runner; distance was definitely my thing! I ran the six miles in my heels too which was a HUGE confidence booster by the way. Sighing, I squeezed into the rickety swing where Trev fell off and broke his arm a few years ago, and couldn’t help but feel annoyed at myself. I could run a 5k in no sweat, I could endure intense physically pain unlike so many girls due to my experience with action sports, I was a strong person in nature not doubt about it, and yet; giving Trevor’s speech earlier today tore me apart. For just an hour before this happened, I was standing on a podium in church, struggling on giving a speech about how his memory would live on in our hearts.

“Trevor was an exceptional person,” I had told the darkly clothed audience filled with close friends and family. I on the other hand, was the only one clad in white because it was Trevor’s favorite color as much as he hated admitting it. He always thought the guys would tease him for liking such a simple, ‘girly’ color rather than something more masculine such as black or navy.

“He was more than an amazing soccer player and straight A student; he was a mentor and friend, he was a cousin and a son, he was my big br-”my voiced violently cracked. “Brother…” I finished, tears flowing over my flushed cheeks. Taking a shaky breath, I continued. “We all knew Trevor was fighting a war within himself though, a war we hoped and prayed he’d win. A war against terminal leukemia.” I whispered the last part, I couldn’t believe it myself, I was being a wimp. “I remember the day we found out he wasn’t responding to his treatments, how he came home with such a defeated look in his eyes because he was losing the battle. For as the chemo therapy was slowly killing the cancer, it was killing a part of him as well. So-” my voice broke, “He refused to take anymore treatment and urged my parents to let him live the rest of his life in peace and happiness. He was diagnosed at least two more months to live, three if it was a miracle, and he charged at it with his head held high.” At this point, my body was violently shaking, my voice thick with emotion. “Trevor lived each and every day to the fullest; he insisted on still attending school to maintain his educational career, constantly hung out with his friends and family on the weekdays all while cramming on the weekends for the test he was going to take for the private school of his dreams. My brother wanted to go to West Montgomery Private School more than anything in the world. He applied with his best friend Riley and a week before he passed away… he received his acceptance letter. But unfortunately…,” my voice cracked and I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this,” I whispered running off the stage. I ran through the isle, past a startled Father Christopher and my parents. Before exited however, I threw everyone an apologetic glance as I pushed open the double doors of the church and fled outside, descending from the steps where I collapsed on a bench and sobbed my heart out. By the time I went back to the church, everyone was at the cemetery.