Fighter |No Longer writing|

Part 59

Katherine’s POV    

   The past week had taken its toll on me; it seemed to just keep dragging on. I felt like a zombie. My dad had given up trying to start a conversation with me. I wanted to be anywhere else but the car. I felt trapped, like there was no way out. It didn’t help that we were on our way to say good bye to Andrew.

   Getting dressed that morning was more difficult than picking out an outfit for prom. I never thought I would have to ask myself 'What should I wear to my brothers funeral?0' I stood in front of the mirror, black flats, dress, hat, sunglasses and cardigan. The only colour in my outfit was gold, the watch necklace. The best gift anyone could’ve given me.

      Ever since my incident I had been avoiding the subject of Andrew. It still didn’t seem real. He was so young, he still had so much to do and now, because of one simple bullet, that was all crushed. We pulled in to the cemetery; huge gates sat open for our arrival.

   The grey sky was dark. I might’ve looked weird wearing sunglasses when the sun was nowhere to be seen, but they were my shield. I could feel little droplets of rain hitting my face as I made my way under the tent set up for the guest.

   I sat front row, next to Martin and my dad. I had my back against the chair and my legs were crossed toward my feet. I saw the coffin being carried by soldiers, half of the wooden box was neatly covered with the Canadian and British flag.

   I couldn’t help but notice a soldier at the front left, gripping the pole. His chin was curved up and his face was stained red. I caught my breath in my throat and looked down at the ground. I tuned everything out as the tears slowly escaped.

     I felt the men sitting on both sides of me shaking, trying to keep their cries on mute. Guilt was all I could feel.

   I didn’t try hard enough. I could’ve tried to stop him from signing up. I just threw a fit and that’s it. I should have gotten dad worried so he would’ve made Andrew change his mind. I could have done so many things.

   I dropped my head, my chin rested on my chest. I didn’t move. Everyone started to head to the mansion for dinner, but I couldn’t move. Anger, disappointment and loneliness had taken over my body, paralyzing me.

Someone cleared their throat, “Katherine?”

I followed the shined shoes that were placed in front of me. One of the soldiers that were carrying my brother was standing strong. I recognized him; he was the one who was crying the hardest.

“Yes,” my throat was dry. I hadn’t said a word in the past three days. I swallowed and tried again, “I’m Katherine.”

The man looked down to me, “My name is Tate, and I knew your brother. We bunked together,” he began to choke up.

I slowly took off my sunglasses, surprised how emotional he was getting.

He took a deep breath. He reached for his back pocket. A white envelope was held out.

“Andrew wanted me to give this to you if anything happened to him,” Tate trailed off as I opened the flap and pulled out the object that was inside.

   I bit my lip as my vision became blurry. An old photograph was the only thing in it. Mom, dad, Andrew and I were gathered in front of a Christmas tree. Everyone was smiling, Andrew held the bunny ears behind my head, but my father was tickling him. I screwed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to believe it. The ten year old boy in this photo was gone. Forever.

   Everything slipped out of my grasp. My hands started shaking and I fell backward on to my chair. When I covered my face with my hands my whole body began to tremble. As I exhaled whines departed.

    Arms wrapped around me, comforting my loss. He began to rub small circle in my back and rested the other hand on my neck. I sobbed, latched on to him. After a few moments of each other’s embrace we slowly broke apart. I used my rain jacket to wipe under my eyes.

“Before I forget,” Tate lifted a necklace with two dog tags on them and placed it over my head.

I lifted on between my fingers and read what was in graved. Andrew J Owens.

“Thank you,” I said just above a whisper. I could see my father walking over to us.

“Hello,” my dad directed towards Tate.

Tate raised from his chair, “Hello sir.”  

“You knew Andrew?” my father asked. His tone was empty.

“Yes sir and very fortunate to,” Tate was speaking to my father as if he were speaking to his commander.

My father’s eyes became glossy, “Thank for what you do for us,” both men shook hands.

“Are you ready to go home?” Dad turned to me.

I was hesitant. I wanted to be alone, not crowded by people who are just going to remind me of Andrew.

“Sir, if it’s alright I’d like to take Katherine home,” Tate noted my behavior.

My dad looked at me for a moment, frowning as he made his decision, “Alright.”

My nerves seemed to calm down when he walked back to the car without me. I sent Tate a soft smile, he returned the gesture. Tate lead me to his car in silence.

“After you,” Tate said after he opened the door to his rental car for me.