Fear Behind The Mask (Scarecrow/Gotham Fanfic)

Chapter Eleven: The Mental Breakdown

Chapter Eleven: The Mental Breakdown

Charlotte POV:

Ten years ago:

I am currently stood in a graveyard with a long sleeved black dress on which falls just below my knees. I wear black tights and black leather knee-high boots as well as a long black trench coat. I have a single red rose in my gloved hand and parts of hair which are not in a side fishtail braid fly in my face due to the small breeze. My makeup is no doubt running because of my tear stained face. I sigh sadly looking over at the long oak coffin. It is currently being lowered into the ground. 

"We are all gathered here today to celebrate the young life lost of a beloved daughter, a loving friend, and girlfriend, Sherry Squires," the man in a black suit and white dog collar announces. I close my eyes and tilt my head so it is facing the earth beneath me. I feel another tear run down my face and fall to the ground, nourishing the earth. 

"We all have loving memories of the bright, intelligent girl who died so tragically," the priest says looking down at the coffin as it hits the bottom of the hole. 

"Now would everyone close to Sherry like to pick up a shovel and pour dirt on top of her coffin to show your respect," the priest suggests and I watch as Sherry's parents are the first to pick up a shovel and pour dirt onto her coffin. Bo goes next but gets someone else to do it on his behalf as he is in a wheelchair. 

"Charlotte, would you like to go next?" the priest asks me. The priest has known me my whole life as my parents often used to visit the church every Sunday until business took over their lives. I used to volunteer at the church a few years ago before I started traveling with my parents whilst continuing to study my psychology degree. I nod my head and walk slowly trudging as I pick up the shovel and dig some of the soil from the pile and gently pour it onto Sherry's grave. I then take the rose and drop it on top of her coffin and let the tears run down my face. I feel a pair of arms wrap around my shoulders in comfort and turn to see Sherry's parents looking at me with sorrow in their eyes. I smile sadly at them both and give them my condolences. 

I step away from the grave and walk over to a nearby tree and lean up against it sadly. I breathe in a breath of fresh air and let it cloud my senses. My best friend was gone, and my other best friend who involuntary killed her never wants to see me again. 

"You know, I have never seen Sherry so dead quiet as she is now," I hear a masculine voice say from beside me. My eyes widen upon hearing those words and I turn my head to the right and see a tall man with crystal blue eyes and dark blonde hair. He sighs looking down upon everyone else who is gathered around Sherry's grave. 

"She always did want to be at the center of attention," he says shortly afterward looking at all of the distraught and saddened faces. My mouth opens and I glare at the rude man beside me.

"Can you please not say that," I demand harshly trying my best not let my crying get in the way of my voice. The man raises his brow and tilts his head to the left. 

"Say what?" he questions totally oblivious to what he has just said. I sigh and shake my head looking down biting the inside of my lip preventing me from speaking my mind. 

"You are a funeral, Sir. The least thing you can do is show so damn respect for the dead!" I bite back scowling at him. I turn my attention back to the funeral and watch as many people pick up a shovel and push the rest of the soil onto Sherry's grave. 

"It's not like she can hear us anyway," the man comments. I snap my head back to face the man once more. I am alarmed that this man even has the nerve to say such things in a place of God. Don't get me wrong, I am not religious, but I still believe that people should respect the dead.