The §ketchBoøk

Chapter Three

Patrick pov

Of course, it is pouring rain on the darkest day ever.
I was sat upon a hard wooden chair, staring out into space.
My blurry vision was set on a brown, rotund casket.
Words refused to leave my mouth.
There I was, stitting around crowds of random faces.
Everyone here knew him longer than I ever had, it made me feel a bit invalidated in my pain.
I want to talk to someone about my dream.
At the same time, I feel like someone might consider me crazy if I do talk about it.
Or they might think I'm a toxic person for having that dream.
Every second that I try to inhale, it feels like chains are dragging my entire body down into a dark pit.
The regret I own, knowing I could've done something... it's the heaviest thing you could ever imagine.
The people here look entirely emotionless.
Like a sea of dead faced fish.
Why am I the only one struggling back tears?
Everything at the funeral was going by so fast that even a freight train would feel slow in comparison.
My current mindset was a vindictive one.
Accusations rolled through my mind, like "who did it? was it my fault?"
He didn't deserve any of this.
Tears began overflowing out of my eyes, but I didn't make a noise.
There was a deepening disgust growing within myself, and at that moment my gut felt off about everything.
I turned around to see a girl with long brown hair watching the funeral from afar.
It was Qloie, I knew by her posture alone.
She was leaned up against a tree.
Even seeing the familiar face, I decided to stay with the crowd of people. This day was about Mark and I need to be here for him.
Suddenly, there a light hand on my shoulder.
I turned around, and in front of me was an unrecognizable face.
She had lots of freckles, long red shiny hair, pale skin, and blue sparkling eyes.
"Hi, I'm Erin, I go to Mason heights... the same school as you. Oh, and Sorry if I scared you. You looked extremely sad. I could tell. Mark was a pretty cool guy. I was close friends with Mark. Are you new? I haven't seen you around much." She said
"I...new" it was hard trying to speak.
My nose is running, throat is tight and tears are streaming down my cheeks.
"Well, my brother, Tyler, he's a psychologist. He's going to help students around the school tomorrow to help them through their grieving." She said, positively.
She wandered off, approaching another teenager.
Never had I ever met a girl who was so willing to help strangers out.

I looked behind me back at the tree where Qloie was...
She was gone, and all that was over there were some kids playing baseball.

Marks pov (past)

After getting some home runs, my teammates were exhausted.
They were scrambling to pick up their baseballs.
"Mark, Let's call it a day man," one chuckled at me, trying to catch his breath.
"Yeah, you're right," I said, chuckling back.
The entire team and I walked back to the front of the school, waiting for our rides home.
I forgot my bag in the locker room.
Pushing myself off the grass near the curb I began running to the school.
Making my way to the locker room, I saw Qloie and Mr.Richard having a conversation in the office.
They were in plain sight through the window.
I shoved as much of my body into my locker as quietly as possible and began listening.
"He is getting suspicious about this school already. We need to keep him far away from anything that might tip him off." Qloie crossed her arms after saying that.
"And that's exactly why I have a plan Qloie. Trust me, I just can't explain it any further right now. Keep him busy with your usual distractions." Mr.Richard said.
The two closed the blinds and locked the office door.
What's going on here? It's awfully late to be afterschool chit-chatting with the principal.

Once I walked into my house, I kissed my mother on the cheek.
" How was your day Hon?" She asked
"It was a really good day Mom, Just hoping I get that baseball scholarship. If I do, I'll be extremely happy you don't even understand."
I started rambling on and on, mom rolled her eyes " I think I do know, Mark."
I went upstairs and set my backpack down in my room.
A beautiful array of colors shone through my window.
I looked out the window just to marvel in the sunset when something caught my eyes.
Looking down at my neighborhood I swore I saw Qloie.
But, that's impossible.
She doesn't even live around me.
Reaching my hand down, I locked my window.
Then I ventured downstairs to lock the doors.
I don't trust that girl at all.
My doorbell rings "I'll get it, mom."
Slowly, I open the door.
Before I could see who it was, a pair of arms squeezed me to death.
I knew it was anyway. "Erin! What's up?" I asked while pulling back.
"Nothing much! I didn't see you today. How you been?" She smiles widely.
"I'm doing very well. Hey, I have to ask you a quick question. Did you see Qloie around the neighborhood?" I asked
"No, Mark, you're being odd. She lives 50 minutes away from you." She laughs, I nervously laugh along with her.

Patrick pov (present day)

Having draped myself over the side of the sodden casket, my clothes were now drenched.
I felt a presence watching me, coming closer.
Peeling my tear stained face from the casket, I glance up to see Erin again.

"You didn't deserve this," she said, starring at the casket with a face full of empathy.
I felt a strange amount of comfort in her face.
Sighing, I walked back to the car, spotting my mother in the driver seat.
Once I got into the car she said: "Honey, I'm so sorry."
"Just take me home," I said.
She flicks on the radio to some soft rock hits.
Her face staring back at mine in concern "I'm sorry about what happened, Anything I can do Patrick?" Mom asked
I sighed putting my arm on the window, leaning my head on it for support.
"No mom, you really can't."
Her eyes shift back on the road, then there was only silence the entire car ride home.

...

Today was another usual day on the bus.
I sat in the back, longingly gazing out the window at the shadowy figure. He was waving at me.
What the hell?
There was a crinkling sound, and then I felt plastic rub against my arm. Immediately, I shifted my head and saw Qloie sitting down next to me.
She didn't lean against me this time.
"I heard about Mark..."
She paused.
"Sorry, that I never checked on you at the funeral. I thought I'd brought you some Rose's since valentine's day is tomorrow." She smiled, nervously.
I was confused "Isn't the boyfriend supposed to do that?"
She nodded "Usually, yeah. I suppose you're right, but we've been distant lately."
There was a moment of silence as I didn't know what to say.
"Pat, I'm breaking up with you. I've seen the way you look at Erin."
My eyebrows scrunched together.
"Um, what? You give me roses just to say that you're breaking up with me."
Qloie begins getting up out of her seat.
"Y'know I don't even like her, and I only saw her once at the funeral."

I was hoping Qloie would come back, but she didn't.
How was it that I was so ready to say "I love you" to her, just minutes ago?

Erin spotted me as I entered the school.
"Hey, do you want to meet my older brother, Tyler?" She asked, politely.
Ignoring what she said, I rolled my eyes back into my head.
Then, I felt a grab on my arm, so I turned back.
"Patrick, I care about you. I'm trying to help you." She called.
Her hand was tight around my arm.
"Erin, you did enough already. I lost my girl because of you."
"How is that my fault?" She yelled after me, but I didn't feel like talking.
At this point, all I want to do is listen to music and escape from reality.
Sitting in that one class where Mark used to sit next to me was hard.
I kept remembering all of our memories.
Now there's just another empty seat, another day loaded with crap.
We were becoming good friends before he'd passed.
All good things come to an end though.

I decided to write in my sketchbook for the first time in forever.
Just to get my emotions out on paper.

What is the likelihood that you'll ever find someone who loves you the same way?
Someone who doesn't think you're going too fast or too slow.
- Patrick