Poisonous

Chapter 15 - My Final Goodbye

A/N: I'm sorry if this chapter is a little—churchy—for you anti-God/religion readers.

Olivia almost looked asleep. I guess that's what happens when you die. You look peaceful.

Her hair was perfectly curled, the makeup they put on her was flawless. She was in her favorite dress. It was dark red, lacy, and tight. Her arms and hands were cross over her stomach. She almost looked like a Prissy. Almost.

I started at her too long. The red dress looked like her blood. Her blood that was all over the street. For a second, I thought I could see the blood escaping her stomach wounds again.

I blinked.

The wounds were just a figment of my imagination. I walked off so that other students could look at her.

I took a seat in one of the chairs. I felt a warm body sit next to me. I turned and saw Damian.

"Not right now, Damian," I said.

"You didn't even know what I was going to ask. Besides, there isn't much of a choice where to sit."

I turned to look around. Most of the place was full of family and family friends. The section of students were limited.

"Fine. What do you want to ask me?"

"I need to explain some things. Okay? I wanted to talk to you the night you found out who I was. You ran off," he started.

"I'm not talking to you, Damian. You lied to me."

"I lied to keep my identity a secret," he said in a hushed whisper.

"You obviously knew mine!" I whispered-yelled. "You don't keep that a secret!"

"So what, you're going to spill my secret now?"

"No, because you told me yours. I never told you. You just knew!"

I crossed my arms and turned my body away from him. I hoped he got the hint. I felt his body leave the chair. I still felt his eyes on me even though I didn't dare look to see where he moved to.

Church music started to play. The preacher began talking. "We father in the cloudy Tuesday to say farewell to Olivia Harrington. She was loved by many. Would anyone like to say few words? Tell us a story?"

At first, no one speak. Why would they? A young girl was murdered. It was time for grief. It wasn't time for—

"I'll do it!" Rachel's voice beamed throughout the church.

Of course she would do it. She wants the attention.

Rachel stood up on the odium. "Me and her go all the way back to middle school. We are BFFs. I'm going to miss Olive." There was a quiet stir from the audience. Rachel realized what she said. "Oh, sorry. Olive was a nickname I called her."

Un-freaking-believable. I swear, Rachel and her lies.

"That was very lovely dear," the preacher said as Rachel walked away. "Would anyone else like to say a few words?"

No one did.

The preacher said a small sermon. I didn't really pay attention. Rachel didn't either. She kept turning around an glaring at me.

Soon, the preacher said a small farewell. "Bless the soul of Olivia Harrington. Bless her family. Bless her friends. Amen."

"Amen," the crowd said in unison.

Four men, I think they were Olivia's uncles, lifted her casket and walked down the aisle. Her family members soon followed. Our school walked out next. I hopped on the bus that was taking us to the cemetery. Both Rachel and Damian were on the bus. I didn't want to see either.

The ride to the cemetery was short and sweet. I hopped out of the bus. Olivia's family were walking about of their cars. I followed the crowd. We stopped at her soon-to-be grave. They placed Olivia's casket on the machine that'll lower in her in the ground.

The preacher walked up to the coffin. He laid his hand on it. "Heavenly Father, we commit the body of Olivia Harrington to the peace of the grave. May her soul rise high into the heavens."

"Amen," said the remaining people.

I watched the cemetery workers lower her grave. I started to pour down rain. I didn't have an umbrella. I watched as my best friend was buried six feet under.

* * *

I sat there, on the wet ground, in my wet clothes. My hair was a mess. Everyone had left. Even Olivia's parents. It was way past the funeral. I didn't have any other place to be.

I felt the rain stop falling on me. I wished it still fell. I missed the rain. I looked up. Damian was holding up a black umbrella. He looked completely dry. He had changed out of his funeral clothes. He was wearing a red hoodie with black pants.

All he said was, "I figured you'd be here."

I turned back to face Olivia's grave. "So what, you came here just to see me? Why don't you show a little respect to the dead," I snapped.

"I'll show my respect when it isn't storming. You're gonna get sick."

"I don't get sick. It's one of the few benefits I got from my mother."

"You're still human, and being out in this cold isn't good for you."

"I'm staying here! I don't want to go home anyways."

"You don't have to go home. You can come with me."

I turned and gave him a look. "No."

"I'll explain some things if you come with me. Please? Can't I get a chance to talk?"

I sat and stared at him for a while. He stared back. If anyone saw us, they'd think we were having an intense staring contest.

"Fine," I finally said, "I'll go. But only because I have no plans after this."

"Were you planning on staying out here all night?"

Damian stuck out his hand. I took it. He pulled me up so that I was standing. "I don't know. Maybe. Didn't really think that far ahead."

"Come on then."

"Few more minutes. I'm not . . . I'm not ready to say goodbye," I said in a shy voice.

"Okay."

I leaned down beside Olivia's grave, Damian took a step back so I could talk to her alone. I was back in the rain. "Hey, Olivia. I know we had our ups and downs, especially the last few minutes of your life, but I really will miss you. And I want to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you or gotten mad at you. We've been best friends since forever. Here's my official goodbye for you. I'll miss you, Olivia."