What A Lie Looks Like | ✓

1.30: seattle (part two)

The first day I couldn't stop crying.

The second day it didn't feel real.

The third day I just felt numb.

It's like everywhere I turn, I expect him to appear walking around the corner, but then he doesn't. I've found myself calling his phone to hear Ethan's voice on the voicemail because I couldn't bring myself to listen to the voicemail he left on my phone again. It was just too painful.

I'm sitting on my bed wearing the black dress I wore for Ethan and I's eight-month anniversary five months ago, and I haven't needed to wear it since. But I can't will myself to get up because going to this memorial means that it's real. He's gone, and he's not coming back.

It still seems like a haunting nightmare that I just can't seem to wake up from. Ollie had already come through and taken down the pictures of Ethan after finding me curled into a ball sobbing on the floor with a few clutched in my hands. So instead, I'm picturing each and every one of the pictures from where they were engrained in my mind.

Someone knocks at the door and comes in a second later. I try not to because I know he's dead, but I still get my hopes up that it's Ethan, and this is just some cruel joke.

"Sweetie, you have to get going, or you'll miss it." My mom's soft voice coos from the doorway, peeking her head in.

I can't bring myself to answer without breaking into tears again, even though I have none left to cry. I robotically stand up, smoothing the dress, slip into my heels, and walk towards the door without another thought.

Thoughts are just too dangerous now.

It's hard to walk down the halls and not see memories race past me. There's Ethan and I's images as kids playing hide and go seek, 'studying' at the bench near the studio, eating lunch in the mall, and sneaking back into the school after going to parties. I've spent the last ten years of my life here, and now everywhere I look just causes more pain.

The memorial is being held in the music auditorium because Ethan was a cellist in the orchestra here. My feet stop shuffling right as we reach the doorway, and fresh tears burn in my eyes. "Hun, we have to go in, or you'll be late."

"I can't." My voice cracks my arms tuck around me as if I could keep my heart from breaking any more.

"You can."

I shake my head, and the ponytail my hair has been in for two days is falling loose, and I have wisps of hair around my face now. "Please don't make me," the plead comes out no louder than a faint whisper.

Mom sighs and pulls me into a hug while the tears I thought I had run out of stream down my face. "I'm so sorry. You don't have to."

I'm a horrible person.

The auditorium door opens, and I hear Ollie's unmistakable voice, "Sephine, we're waiting for you."

Mom's arm pulls back, and I turn towards Ollie. His dark hair is disheveled, and there are large bags under his eyes, but his suit tells a different story because it's pressed immaculately and buttoned.

I don't want to go in. Ethan wouldn't have wanted me there. His voicemail made that clear.

But with tears still rolling down my face, my feet resume their dragging pattern towards the doorway. I step inside the door, making it further than I ever thought I would. Mom stays behind, so it's just Ollie and me walking in.

Unsurprisingly the auditorium is filled. A good majority of us have all been here since we were seven or eight since the younger section of the boarding school is just across the street from the upper-level section. His yearbook picture was being projected on the wall, and I can't help but stare at it.