It was not in the plan

Chapter 23: A closed book

With a tissue I'm my hand that was already soaked to a point it was disintegrating, I tugged at the hem of my dress attempting to keep some sort of decency. My hair fell on my face, covering the puffiness and redness. Scarlet sat beside me, rubbing my back gently and muttering words that fell upon deaf ears. I felt so sad to the point I felt sick, I felt empty, and numb but I felt everything at the same time.

Emotions came to me like a tidal wave, and I wished they would go away but at the same time I needed to feel something because I felt like if I felt nothing I would loose the will to live.

I had cried to the point where tears failed to fall. When I found out the news I immediately hurled all my stomachs contents and it's been four days since eating a proper meal.
Memories tore me apart, regret haunted me. I wanted to die, to escape the pain and to reunite with who I lost but I couldn't loose who I had.

"Violet Snow" a voice came from the podium.

I looked up, glancing at the priest conducting the funeral. As of my name hadn't been called, I turned to my best friend, anxiety seeping into me. She looked at me, giving me a reassuring look. Which urged me to stand up and walk forward.

The auditorium was quiet and the only sound heard was my heels clanking against the wooden floor. I swallowed before grabbing the mike stand and pulled it down to my level.

My eyes connected to Henry's mother, whose eyes were a feint grey, dark circles surrounded them but the redness on her face covered it a little. She took a deep breath before turning to Henry's uncle once more and sobbing. I looked at my mother who gave me a small smile, that gave me enough confidence to begin with my eulogy.

~ Flashback~
I woke up as the sun pushed to way through the curtains on the dining room, the room was quiet and birds chirped outside.

I sat up immediately, taking in my surroundings, I realized that Henry was not with me, and the space he had filled on the couch as now empty. A dent in the couch suggested his presence.

I got up, wiping the sleep out of my eyes, I strolled up the stairs and to his bedroom. As soon as I opened the bathroom door, the smell of blood mixed with vomit washed over me.

I forced myself to walk through the room and check the bathroom, where Henry lay sprawled on the floor, in his hands a bottle of white pills, they lay purposeless on the floor, mixing with the water ,from the plastic cup laying a few centimeters away from him, forming some kind of white sludge.

In the toilet bowel was a mixture of blood and disintegrated pizza and popcorn.

He was laying faced down, his brown hair messy, but it looked as if he had been running his hands through his hair out of possible frustration.

My reaction was a delayed scream, I immediately ran to him, pulling him up so he face wasn't on the cold hard ground. His skin held little warmth, I felt the side of his neck in panic, checking for any sign of a pulse. Nothing, silence. Heavy, thick silence.

"Help" I yelled loudly.

Dried blood poured from nostrils, his eyes closed. Never in my life have I wished so much to feel his familiar green eyes staring into mine, his body heat.

Henry's mother ran into the room and when she saw the sight she let out a immediate sob, running to him and pulling him up. "You're okay, baby. Henry hun, you are okay" she said in a hushed tone, convincing herself more than anything.

Henry's uncle followed. He immediately grabbed his phone calling the ambulance. Henry's mother seemed to realize something as her hushed whispers became loud shrieks.
"Henry" she demanded, pushing on his chest, as if he'd suddenly let out a breath. "Henry" she screamed once more, tears soaking her face. She lay her face down against his chest. "My baby boy, wake up hunny please... please"