Letting go

Chapter 11 : Friendship

I slip into a pure black dress that has a flowy skirt and is black lace with a black under layer with a lace top part and long lace sleeves. I straighten my hair and put my black flats on.

I look at myself in the mirror as my mom comes up behind me.

"Are you ready?" she asks.

"Yes," I say quietly.

****

*graveyard / Taylor's funeral*

But I was wrong.

I wasn't ready.

Nothing can prepare you for your best friend's funeral.

Even though I knew it'd be coming , I didn't think it'd be this bad. I thought that , somehow I would have gotten used to it by now. But you can never get used to your friend being dead. I was hoping , deep down inside , that I wouldn't have to be here , at her funeral. I was hoping that maybe , I would die before her. That maybe I wouldn't have to live without her. Because , she was always stronger than me so maybe she'd be able to handle this better.

Once I see her open casket , I break into a million pieces.

I break down into tears , I crumple to the ground in my sadness.

"No , no , nooooooo ... she ne - ne never wanted this ... she ... she just ... no , she just ... just ... wanted to ..." I blubber.

She never wanted to be buried. She wanted to be cremated. She said that she wanted to leave this earth quickly. She said slow is painful , quick is painless.

Everyone stares at me.

Luca looks in shock.

Tim just watches in sadness.

Taylor's , Tim's and Luca's parents just watch in udder misery.

But I don't care about the stares that boar into my skin , making it burn.

I continue to weep but they carry on as if nothing is happening. They close the casket and are preparing to descend her into a deep grave , the one place she never wanted to be.

I run towards her.

Scrape at the coffin.

Trying to somehow get her out.

Jumping on top of it.

Anything.

All of a sudden 2 strong arms wrap around my waist. I thrash about trying to escape the grasp of my capturer.

"Let go!! Let go!!" I scream.

The person carries me away from the funeral.

Pulling me away from her.

"Stop! let go! she doesn't want it!"

The person puts me down.

But before I can run back they grab my arm.

I whip around to be face to face with Tim.

"Let. Go" my voice sharp as ice.

He ignores me and keeps a strong grip.

"Want didn't she want?" He asks.

"She didn't want to be buried!"

"Well it's too late now"

"No. It's. Not!"

"Yes. It. Is"

"We can stop them if you just let. Go!"

"It doesn't matter!"

"It mattered to her!"

"Well it's her parents choice"

"Well it's her body! she should have the choice!"

"Not everyone thinks of it like that!"

"Well she did and so do I!"

"I know that!"

"She was my friend"

"She was my friend too"

"So why are you here stopping me?"

"Because no one will listen to you and they'll just send you back to the hospital thinking that you've completely lost it!"

"Maybe I have!"

"Do you really believe that?"

"... No"

"Ok"

"Can I please just go back and say goodbye to my friend?"

"I don't know ... Maybe another day"

"Some of us think that holding on is what makes us strong but sometimes it is letting go"

He ponders this for a little while before saying ,

"Ok."

Then we walk away to let go.