badnews { jace norman }

fifty-one

i glance around the room of faces. not full of sorrow by many, but almost happiness as they mingled with one another. the only thing going through my mind was how. how were the people surrounding me able to keep a conversation without their voices cracking and knees giving out? how were they not drowning in their own tears.

my eyes lift from across the room, looking at the dark wooden casket that laid open on top of a covered table. i hadn't gotten myself to see him. fearful that id want to grab him, hold his lifeless body and cry. so i cry without him, alone, not willing to want it enough to cause a scene.

my blurred vision trails across the room to land on his mom. her mouth turned upwards into a small smile as she talks to her relatives. i scowl at the image, regretting moving my eyes from the floor.

a hand on my shoulder causes me to look up in surprise. my parents couldn't make it and i wasn't familiar with anybody here.

but a gentle, familiar face draws me back.
brit smiles at me comfortingly, not needing to say a word.

sam sits next to me, glancing over,
"how you holding up kid?"

i shrug, looking back at my place on the floor,
"all happened so fast" i choke.

"i know," he leans his elbows on his knees,
"he deserved better"

i nod, feeling brit sit on the other side of me and run her hand up and down my back, watching silently as i leaned forwards into my hands, crying again.

"you did your best M, this isnt about you-"

"i left him" i whispered out of my hands, "he said it himself."

sam sighs, grabbing my wet hand in his, not knowing how to respond.

"you cant be so hard on yourself margo" brit watches down at the ground, almost finding the spot i hadn't looked away from.

we sit in silence, light tears rolling down my cheeks, feeling like they were perminant.

"have you gone up there to see him yet?" sam looks over, his hand still trapped in mine.

i shake my head as he stands, attempting to pull me up with him.

"sam, i cant" i break.

"you need to margo. we'll be there with you"

"you'll regret it if you dont"  brit stands too.

cautiously i stand, making my way slowly behind them as they approach his lifeless body.

i stand centimeters away, sucking in a silent breath as i lock eyes with his expressionless face.

to anyone that was looking at him, his rested eyes and visible cheekbones, the way his lips fit perfectly together and the suits collar that fit him perfectly, theyd remark about how peaceful he really did look.

but i saw through it. that was always his facial expression, when he slept, when he talked, when he'd sit there staring, studying you like a piece of art work. he always had this peaceful, pleased look across his face. it was to hide the pain.

i saw the pain the minute my eyes landed on his body in that stupid wooden box.

a wooden box that he didnt deserve to be in so young.

and then, i remember.

i remember all of the times i had pushed him away, all the times i left him, all the times i had screamed at him to get out of my life.

i remember the last thing that was said to him,  lying to him that my dad needed me home. he had no idea, and neither did i.

i remember the feeling of his lips. the way his fingers traced down my waist. how perfect he looked when he had his teasing smile across his face when he called me 'Porter'.