Hold Me Close

Chapter Forty One: Mixed In the Dirt

-=Amy=-

I spent the rest of that day right at Brandon's side, my emotions all over the place. Eventually around ten the hospital mortician came downstairs and told me that I would have to leave. I couldn't stay in this hospital anyways, my mind was starting to go insane. But I didn't go home either, I had a different place that I needed to go to.

Brandon had given me a spare key to the small apartment off-campus that he rented, do I went there. Under the cover of night I was able to make it in without drawing any attenton to myself. I quietly opened the door, almost as if there was still going to be someone here. But no, the apartment was dark and empty, but Brandon's scent still lingered in the air, filling me with a sad nostalgia. So many nights I came over here in search of a comfortable place and someone to be with, and now that was gone.

I closed the door behind me and slowly walked through the apartment, still in the dark. Brandon's room, the only room in the place, was the first you came by when you came in. The door was propped open, so I pusged it open silently and walked in. I had always made fun of him because his room was always a disaster, but now it felt like all that was left of him. His room, his house, just the way he had left it, all his possessions sitting here untouched by anyone but him and now the sarmt here, gathering dust and waiting for their owner who would never come home.

On his bedside table lay the golden chain I had gotten him for his birthday. I picked it up and rubbed it against my cheek, wanting nothing more than Brandon to come striding through that door, ask me why I was crying, and then stay up and comfort me all night. Because that's who he was. I fell onto his bed and curled up, breathing in the familiar comfortable scent and clutching the chain close. It was almost the same as him hugging me again. Almost. But he wasn't here, so I pressed my face as deep as I could into a pillow and cried myself to sleep.

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-=Jason=-

Amy seemed to be taking Brandon's death the hardest. No one had seen or even heard from her since the hospital, which was three days ago. Although I had complete faith that she would show up today, because this afternoon we'd be having his funeral about an hour away in his hometown. I texted Amy the details, when and where to be today. Someone else who seemed to be taking the murder rather hard was Evan. He came to me in tears the day that we were all in the hospital. He blamed himself for what happened. Saying how if he wasn't there then Brandon would still be walking today, and while that is technically true, it was his father's fault, not his.

Alyssa and I were at my dorm room getting ready. She was drying her fur and I was buttoning up the shirt I would be wearing all day. I had straightened everything, ironed all of my clothes checked myself over too many times to count, everything.

Alyssa shut off the drier and came out of the bathroom. She was wearing a long, pretty black dress and similar shoes and earrings to match.

"Ready to go?" She asked, in somewhat of a more solemn mood. I nodded my head to tell her yes and she followed me as we left the dorm.

The hour long drive to the funeral home in his town took us through the countryside, the road snaking between an hour's worth of farms and  small towns. It was really beautiful out here.

I had been to Brandon's house myself a handful of times over breaks and such, so I knew when we had gotten there. We weren't stopping there, just passing by on our way to the ceremony. As we passed I looked out into the dark, empty windows. It almost looked like the house was grieving as well.

The funeral home was a small little building in the outskirts of town. It was white, one story tall, and had a small parking lot, whih was filled to capacity with cars. I parked our car on the side of the road and got out, breathing in the clean, warm spring air. Alyssa quickly checked herself in the mirror, fixing her fur a bit and got out as well.

Inside we had to wait in a long line down a hallway to go and see him. The hallway was lined with picture boards filled with pictures of Brandon and other people as well. Some of him as a kid, a closed-eye wide open smile on his face as he ate ice cream, him blowing out candles on his eigth birthday cake, scoring his first home run. We slowly progressed through the line, which was 95% his family. Every picture board showed him getting older and older, until eventually there were pictures of all of us starting to pop up. In fact, on the last board before the front of the line only had two pictures. One of him, his mother, and his father all together for Thanksgiving, and the other was all of us on Christmas, sitting in Evan's apartment with all of our moods being happy ones.

Before I knew it we were to the front of the line. We were also the last ones, walking forward and kneeling down on the bar and looking into the open casket. Brandon was wearing a suit and tie, as well as the golden chain he prized. We said our farewells and headed to the back of the room where everyone else was sitting. Everyone looked just blank, well, with the exception of Amy. She was a wreck. But that's to be expected, they were really close, more than the rest of us. Soon after we took our seats family members got up and one by one they all spoke kind words about Brandon, reciting fond memories of theirs, talking about what his future would have held, all of it.

It was a nice ceremony, Amy cried quietly in her seat the whole time. I sat numbly throughout the many speeches being said, and when it was over we had to leave. There was going to be a private burial for certain people only, and I assumed it was just parts of his family.

"C'mon Amy, we've got to go." I said, patting her back as everyone else began to file out of the room.

"You go ahead, I'm staying for when they bury him." She replied.

"I'm sorry Amy, but it's a private one." I sadly responded.

"I know it is, I got an invite." She said.

"Oh, okay then. We'll see you later then I guess." I said back, walking away and catching up with Alyssa and everyone else.

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-=Amy=-

I sat in my chair for a few more minutes before getting up and heading for my car. I drove down the road for a few miles where I reached the local cemetary with a hearse parked inside next to a freshly dug grave, a newly chiseled stone lay at the head. Brandon's parents, his little brother, and his grandparents were there, looking down into the grave when I came up. A pastor said a prayer over Brandon's now closed casket and everyone took turns dropping dirt into the grave, me going last. After a few hugs goodbye I went home, and when I got there I realized I had a missed phone call coupled with a voice mail from a couple days ago. It was from Brandon. I almost considered just deleting it, I wasn't sure if I would be able to handle hearing him, but I chose to open it anyways.

"Hey Amy! I just wanted to call you to say that I was thinking about telling my mother and father about...well you know...us. Well whatever, I just though I should tell you first and see what you think because we haven't told anyone and it's been like, three years. Well, I love you!"

Hearing his voice made me break down crying again. I couldn't handle it.

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When you highkey regret killing someone and almost make yourself cry.