And then the Sky fell Northwards

Her last Funeral

Shit why am I listening to him??

Fuck I should just run away and hide in the bathroom.

People aren’t meant to see me this open.

I’m meant to blend in.

Not stand out.

Stark naked, no make up.

Shit why does he get inside my head so easily.

Well let’s go face the public.

Louise and Wendy are waiting outside, or at Maisy’s house or something like that.

Why the fuck did we let Maisy do this.

She doesn’t deserve suffering in the spotlight.

I’d do...

No I wouldn’t it’s too hard for anyone and shit if someone’s gotta talk it should be someone worth the ‘privilege’ to speak about Ainsley.

HA. Privilege!

More like a curse.

Fuck off face and stop looking at me.

Jemma stopped looking into the mirror that took the small space between her bookcase and the shelves above it, too far up for people to properly see what was on them. She liked it this way, for they were containing things she’d prefer others thought were only found it books. Jemma flatted out her dress.

The soft green fabric appeared black in the faint light and had to be pinned back because since buying it she’d lost too much weight. It was meant to be for the prom in around six months time; when the colour would shine in the sunlight and float out on a soft breeze showing off Jemma’s knobbly knees as in usually fell just below them. In this cold, grey, tiresome winter the fabric fell flat and didn’t want to get up for anyone. Feeling much the same Jemma padded bare foot down the stairs.

Getting to the bottom she put on a plain black pair of knee high converse they’d all be wearing. One of the first ways Maria had wanted to pay respects was by going shoeless through the entire day. Using the inside joke where if possible, Ainsley (and Joanne) would do everything they could to don’t wear shoes outside. More often than not people would find themselves going down the shop next to someone letting their mismatched socks be shown for the entire world to see.

 This was quickly ignored because Joan was already complaining about the loss of feeling in her toes back in October so they opted for the converse instead. AA always wore some type of them when she actually chose to wear something other than just socks on her feet. Usually the extra long black pair which would be seen on the souls of all eight girls today. Although they’d all subconsciously agreed that during the ceremony, no matter how cold the floor all of their eighty toes would be bare.

Jemma finished tying up the seemingly endless laces and walked to the door, leaving her mobile on the side so she didn’t have to receive a flood of grieve in yet another form today.

Her family were all in the car waiting. Their faces less pained than Jemma’s but her mother still sniffed and handed over a packet of tissues to go with the three already placed in Jemma’s bag and they pulled away from the house.

Not even Jemma’s brothers spoke or wined today.

As the car ran along onto the motorway; Jemma’s mind began to wonder. Gaping out of the window with deafening Dragonforce on repeat – just the one song called through the fire and flames in memory of Ainsley – she watched the motorway barriers rush past.

After time her mind formed a twisted game with them...

Right so there are three types of barriers for three types of people, the entire barrier without breaks is a person’s life; the shorter the barrier the shorter the life You can keep changing barriers through out your life but it will always end. No matter what.

Those types are:

Short small thin ones for fake people, the thinner the width the faker they are. They are not themselves whether it’s their choice or not.

Fairly large slightly wobbly ones, this is you being you and doing what you want. Crazy? Maybe. True? Defiantly.

The last type is full blown fence sized, possibly gaps in said fence, the person is most likely crazy at this stage of their life.

Alrighty kiddo.

There’s your rules knock yourself out.

Short, Fence, Shoooooort.

Wobbly, wobbly, wobbly, wobbly, wobbly.

Fence (can you even start life crazy??), wobbly, wobbly, dead.

Wobbly. Wow that’s a fucking short life.

Wobbly, wobbly, wobbly, short, fence, short, fence, fence, FENCE, wait what’s happening??? It’s fading. Is that even possible?? No it’s coming back!! It’s trying!! It’s fighting!!!! COME ON LITTLE GUY YOU CAN DO THIS!!!

Shit little guy...it’s a hobbit. Hobbits are sane though...sort of

Frodo?? Frodo went crazy, he stated to fade into the night. He left for the Grey Havens. He...

FUCK OFF EYES. DON’T START CRYING.

FUCK SAKE.

Okay, okay it can’t be Frodo, I mean he can’t be the only person to lose himself over something that wasn’t their fault but they were still stuck in the middle causing them to basically fade even once it was over. Then just leave the life they knew and their Sam..

Oh Samwise.

NO. STOP IT. NO TEARS YET.

It’s an awfully short barrier though ...even for a hobbit that died young...and it goes through so much so quickly...

Then it dawn on Jemma: this barrier was Ainsley’s life. Even now it sounded stupid, this stupidity continued on the more she thought about it. Yet it fitted together in her head perfectly.

Ainley’s life went smoothly until a few months ago; she was herself and give or take a few things her life was fairly normal and happy. She had her friends and family and all the other little details that kept her together. Then it all crashed and burn, almost literally really.

Everything fell apart after that and slowly this crazy of what had happened took over her, Ainsley slipped away no matter how much she tried this depression, this disease coursed through her and Ainsley finally gave up.

That’s when she let it go.

That’s when she said goodbye to life.

That’s when she made her way to her own Grey Havens.

The car slowed to a halt just before the turning point into Maisy’s road; her parents mumbled their goodbyes while the two eleven and seven year old boys in the back just gazed into their laps and nodded towards Jemma.

She couldn’t seem to get up; her mind had found this wall full of exactly how Ainsley had coped with everything. Jemma’s mind ran head first into this wall and now was just numb all over again.

Numb, as if a jellyfish had stung her a thousand times and just left her as a shell of a person.

Somehow, someway it was in this state that Jemma found herself knocking on Maisy’s door with a face drowning itself in tears and a pair of converse balled up in her hands.