Forbidden

Guit

I didn't even know that I was crying. LeAnn kept shaking me, wondering what was happening. I didn't answer her. Just kept sobbing.

"It's all my fault," I kept screaming without knowing that I was saying it.

My dad came up behind me and forced me into the car. I rested my head against the foggy, cold window and watched as it began to rain. Screw nature.

After that I went to bed and slept for what seemed to be forever. I felt so sick. I hadn't eaten in days but I wasn't hungry. How many days has it been since the car accident? I couldn't quite remember but I think it was two days ago.

Then LeAnn came in.

"Honey, Morgan, do you want something?" she asked sweetly.

My eyes glazed over and I mumbled what I think was a 'no'.

"Oh," LeAnn murmured. "Well the funeral will be held later today..."

Her voice cracked at that.

I hid my face in my pillow. "I'm not going."

LeAnn tucked my hair behind my ear. "Will you go if I tell you something?"

Opening my eyes, I nodded.

"Juliana was my sister..." she said and I sat up. "But she was my adopted sister. We weren't actually related sisters. But when she died, I was just as sad about it as you are, sweetie. But it helped to go to the funeral and grieve with other people-"

"What?" I said in a squeaky, dry, and almost inaudible voice. Then I got up and ran out of the room. I had to get out of the house. So I grabbed a sweater without really thinking about it as I ran.

This time, I wasn't going to run my pathetic self to the park. That's where Liam died. Because of me. Because I just had to be sad and made everyone else suffer for it. Because I was selfish. Because I wasn't strong enough to handle it all. But Liam was.

I was going to his grave. The funeral would be held in a church somewhere across town. I would probably be the only one at his grave because everyone was too busy getting ready to go to the funeral. That was good. I wanted to be alone.

I put on the sweater and ran across the cemetery 'til I found Liam's tombstone. The dates engraved on the stone were so...sad. 1997-2013. Sixteen years in between that. So cruel.

I dropped to my knees on the muddy ground and let the sky rain its series of tears on me. Wash the pain away. I just stared at the tombstone as if it were the answer to everything. A tear streamed down my cheek. Warm and salty.

"We're not related," I sobbed. "Juliana was adopted. Just like you, baby. And guess what?"

I paused as if he would respond. But he didn't.

"We're gonna have a baby."

No answer.

Fresh tears pooled down my face and I screamed until my voice went away. There was no life in my voice. I clawed at the mud with my fingers. It made pockets of dirt in the ground for rain to pool in like mini ponds.

I've never cried like this before. I started pounding on the tombstone and I knew that I was just going to break my hand if I kept on hitting it. But I continued to pound and it caused my wrist to bruise and my knuckles to bleed. There were cuts on my arms that were so deep from clawing at the ground, rubbing up against sharp rocks. My hair was soaked and filled with heavy mud. My face was stained with dirt, too.

Next thing I know, cop cars show up.