A Different Kind of Love

A Different Kind of Love: Chapter Twenty-Two

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (Dallas)

Her funeral was held at a smaller church in downtown Miami. Through-out the whole thing, I couldn’t even look at the photos of Clarity that flashed on the screen. I sat in a row on the front with our crew. And Ryder. Over this complication, the guys decided it would be best if we recruited Ryder onto our crew. I wore a grey button up shirt, tucked into black slacks with a dark red tie. And red converse.

The guys dressed in the same way. Considering Mary, Clarity’s mom, asked us to carry her casket out.

After the burial was over, I took notice of how many people were at her funeral. The school’s population. Faculty, officials, random students. People who didn’t even know Clarity came. But as soon as this funeral was over, they would forget about her completely.

When I got home at 4:24 p.m. I went back up to my bedroom. I was looking through my desk drawers trying to find my camera. But instead I found a small plastic baggie. With cocaine inside.

I wanted all the pain and guilt to go away, so I took some. Then the next day I took some more. I kept taking the cocaine, everyday. Until I finally ran out, somehow I got my hands on some more. I kept taking it, it had been a month since Clarity died and the guilt would wash away every time I took the drugs.

I quit playing basketball, and my friends finally started watching my behavior closer. Two months had gone by now, and I was still hooked on cocaine. Lara walked in on my doing the drugs one day and freaked out. She took the drugs from me, and disposed of them. But yet another time, I got my hands on more. How? I have no clue.

It was like I was becoming worse and worse everyday. But then on the night of February 12th, I had a dream that was all too real.

‘ I was sitting in my room, doing drugs. Just like any other night. When a girl with red hair walked in from the hallway. My mind went into overdrive as I noticed how much brighter her green eyes were. She wasn’t dead. I could help myself. I ran over to her and tried to capture her lips with mine. But she pushed me away.

“Dallas, you are wasting your life away. Just because I died, it doesn’t mean you have to be depressed from now on.” She sated.

“But you aren’t dead.” I reply. “You’re here with me.”

She sighed before she grabbed my hand and put it on her stomach. But I couldn’t feel her. My hands went through her. She really was dead.

“I am dead, Dallas. But do not blame yourself for it. It wasn’t your fault. Do you understand?” She asked, like she was scolding a child.

“But I’m the one who was driving the night you died!” I exclaim, trying to find a way to take all of the pain out of my mind. The guilt and the pain just kept swallowing me whole.

“And? I died that night because it was my time to go. There was nothing you could’ve done.” She replied. “So stop wasting your life away. Maybe my death can give you a way to reach others. Use my death to your advantage and stop sulking for Christ’s sake!” She exclaimed. Throwing her hands in the air.

“How? How do I do that?” I asked, on the verge of tears.

“You know what to do.” She replied.

Just like the night she died, she was gone again.