Wake Me Up |e.s|

Three

I flinch as I hear the undeniable sound of a camera shutter. My heart stops for a second, watching as everyone turns towards the unmistakable sound of a camera shutter.

A camera shutter.

Paparazzi were at my mother's funeral.

& did that make me pissed off.

I found myself rushing at the young reporter," Oh, poor you, huh? Go on, take a picture, mate." I beckon to him, "Or maybe you should get the hell out of here."

I want to scream at him, yell at him, knock him out with a punch that I could've delivered.

It just wasn't me who delivered it.

I stared in shock as a tan fist collides with the reporter's jaw, his glasses flying off his thin framed face, his camera was flying towards the floor, which he scrambled to grab, but a pale hand grabbed it before the boy could. I watched as Brendan pushed the guy to the floor, grabbing his collar as he whispered threateningly, "Get the fuck out of here."

The boy scrambled back, getting up shakily before running down the green hill and I stared to my right, as Ed crushed the camera beneath his foot. He looked up and smiled at me. I smiled back and then I stared to my left at Brendan and rushed to him. He grasped my waist tightly.

"What are you doing here?" I mumbled into his chest.

"I couldn't let you be alone when you're upset, babe." he whispers.

"Thanks," I whisper and let him go, turning towards the crowd of people.

I clear my throat and stand at the edge of my mother's coffin once again, "One thing my mother would hate about my life currently would be the nonexistent private life I procured."

I felt my throat close up and turned from them, letting my feet drag me down the miserable hill that I would be following every year, every year on her birthday, every year on my birthday, and every time I was ready to kill myself; because I am sure that's what you do, you still continue to talk because your family member isn't gone: they're just taking an extended vacation and they're waiting until work gives you time off so you can go and enjoy that vacation with them, forever.

I open the door to my original 1997 Beetle, the white paint was rusting, most likely because it had been sitting in the garage of my home for nearly six years. I hear the door open and I stare at Matthew, "Leighton."

I smile, lightly because if I had given him a bigger smile, it would end in me crying.

"Don't worry about today, just go home, relax, and Ed and I will take care of the rest of the day, I'm sure you can handle that, yeah?"

"Yeah," I murmur and he gets out the car and turns away but not before he leans in, whispering, "I love you, be good, I'll see you tomorrow."

"I... I love you, too, Matt..."

• • • •

I sit on the bed, the uncomfortable spring mattress was digging into my thighs. My head was throbbing as I let out silent tears for nearly the millionth time today.

"You could've told me it would hurt this much, mum.." I mumbled as I grasp the sheets in my fingers. My throat is burning with a fiery sickness and I lean over to the trashcan, bile spilling from my mouth and I groan.

The door opens, no knock or anything, and I see Ricky as he walks in, "Hey, dad wants your towels... to wash them."

He leaves the bedroom as I nod and I grab my phone from the table next to me, sliding through the texts messages and call notifications. I answer a couple of tweets, texts, and emails, but I didn't trust my voice so I left my fingers to do the work.