Gone

01

|Asher Thorin's POV|

How am I supposed to do this? I can't do this. How am I supposed to act? I've never been to a funeral. Does everyone cry? I physically can't cry anymore. Will people think I didn't care? I care probably more than most people that will be there, I just don't have any tears left. I have cried so much since it happened. I'm honestly shocked that I haven't died from dehydration, though death does sound a whole lot better than this. I know I could never do that though. Too many people are hurting right now. I couldn't put them through another death, another suicide.

I don't understand why she did it. Will I ever? I have so many questions. Like I've said a thousand times in the last two weeks, I don't know how to handle this. I've never been able to deal with pain, that's what made Brinley and me so similar. Neither of us dealt with pain in the healthiest way, but we always had each other, until we didn't. Until I abandoned her. Why the fuck did I do that? I don't even understand that decision, how could I expect you to understand it?

I have to get out of my head. I can't focus on me right now, today is about you and 'celebrating' your life. At least that is what you said you wanted in your suicide note.

"Asher," my mom said while leaning against the doorway.

I looked at her reflection in my mirror and wiped away the tears that I didn't realize were there. Guess I was wrong about having no tears left.

"Are you rea... I mean... it's time to go," she mumbled out.

I nodded at her question and straightened out my tie. How do people do this? I shouldn't be going to my best friend's funeral at the age of 16. It shouldn't be like this. I shouldn't have let things get that far. I'm so mad at myself. This is my fault. I took one last glance at my appearance and turned to face my mom, she looked at me with so much sympathy in her eyes that I broke down all over again. I'm always the strong one, but I just don't know how to be that person right now.

"How... is... this hap... pening," I whispered as my lip trembled and tears flooded my face. I tried to stay in a standing position, but my knees gave out and I fell to the floor and felt my mother's arms encircle me.

"I don't know baby. I don't understand it either," my mom repeated over and over again in my ear and rubbed my back in a circular motion.

We sat like this for what felt like an eternity. Even after I regained my strength I just couldn't mentally handle it. How am I supposed to face what promises to be the second worst day of my life?