all reason aside, i just can't deny, i love the guy | trevor philips

Chapter X

Today's the day. The day I will watch a sad girl be put into the dirt because she was mistreated. And because she made horrible decisions because she was mistreated.

I don't do much for an outfit besides letting my hair loose and wearing a black knee-length dress with my dark tights on. I wear flattened boots, too. Dart and Jason will not be there. They will be at work while I worry about a dead girl. While I hate her father, her mother, Trevor. Trevor should've known better. They all should've known better.

The drive to the cemetery is long. And quiet. Besides my car's engine humming. And of course the occasional honk of a horn by others.

I didn't get any sleep last night. I was too busy worrying. Reading articles, thinking of possibilities that could've saved Bella's life. Maybe her mom could've stopped her the night she took off. Or maybe Bella thought about it all and decided it wasn't a good idea. If only.

When I'm driving down the road of the cemetery, I see pink flyers around. There are also white and blushed roses in pots spread evenly around the wired fence. On the flyers, Bella's name is printed. Some people thought hosting a funeral for her was ridiculous. What people don't know was she was manipulated. If she wasn't manipulated then she wouldn't have done what she did. She just wanted an escape.

My car is parked on the side of the street, I get out and slowly make my way past the wired fence. There are rows of stones everywhere but the one that has the most attention is the one plastered in roses. Bella's family members are by her. They sob with tissues in their palms. I see her father, Jacob, and some others who I don't know of. I wonder if they will ever forgive her. Or even understand her.

I know how mad Jacob is at her but I'm sure with all of the grief on his face he'll soon get her. Maybe what I said yesterday changed his mind. I hope he realizes how much better of a father he could've been.

I make my way over to them, silently staying behind. This is their moment, not mine. I'm not family. I'm just a rough detective who has caught the feelings of a sad girl.

Jacob wears all black, along with many others. I notice Bella's stone from between two people. It's lovely up close. She would love it, I know.

I can't even cry. I'm flabbergasted, I guess. There's no emotion about this situation. It's all dark. I didn't even know Bella personally and I just already knew that her soul was poor.

Maybe me coming here wasn't the best idea. I'm uninvited. Jacob and I have a tense relationship, it's not a good idea. I turn around and begin making my way back to the car. Then I hear my name.

"Detective Mason!" Jacob calls out. When did he see me? I stop, looking to him. I am respectful, I put my arms in front of me and smile a very empathetic smile.

I let him do the talking. He stands in front of me, looking down at me with puffy eyes. "Detective," he repeats. "Elizabeth. You can call me Elizabeth," I say. He nods.

"Elizabeth, I just want to say... Thank you. Thank you for talking to me yesterday. I-I was not in the best mood," he explains. I cut him off. "Jacob, you don't need to do any explaining. You were hurt, you were angry, you were grieving," I speak. But he doesn't look convinced.

"No, I was... I misunderstood my daughter. You're right. I am a bad father. I didn't pay attention to her feelings. I didn't know how to, I guess."

"Diana and I should've stopped her from leaving the house. But we didn't. And that's our fault. She was put under bad influence. She acted out in bad ways so she could feel better. I understand it all now." It makes me feel way better, knowing he understands Bella.

"Jacob." His eyes water even more as I say his name. "Bella would be proud of you. Proud because you understand. I'm sure she would forgive you. And believe me, she does not believe it's anyone's fault." My words seem to put him below the ice, he's breaking. Jacob cries out in sorrow. It pains me. It's making me tear up, too.

While I'm no physical affectionate person, I pull Jacob into a hug. I can tell he really needs it.

"We would've never hurt her, you know," I whisper. I feel his head bob up and down. "I know," he confirms.

Three Years Later, The Aftermath

My black white floral printed dress that flowed gently in the wind, my caramel brown corduroy jacket that was cropped to the waist of my figure stayed close to my sides. My hands tucked into my sleeves, clutching onto the cuffs, my leather boots squeaked as each of my steps got slower. I stopped and stared down at the carved rock in front of me.

Bella's grave. I pull out a photo of her. The one where she's smiling big, cheeks red. Where she was once happy. Before Trevor, before her runaway. Before life turned on her.

Trevor's mother, Betty, didn't host anything for her lost son. She didn't care. She continued running her barbershop as usual but then ended up putting a pistol to her throat. What a sad family. Things happen, though. And they may not be good things but they usually always have good endings. You just have to believe there will be good endings.

Like me, for example. Years ago I didn't believe in love. I was against it. Now I'm married and expecting a little one.

I sit down in front of Bella, holding a plastic container. It holds a turkey sandwich. Because of how badly Bella was treated, I've decided every Sunday I will attend her new home and share lunch with her.

The Los Santos city is in the distance, looking over us. The sun is there, too. It shines down on Bella. It shows everything beautiful about her stone. I read her epitaph over and over again. I talk to her personally about things going on in my life. I even find myself asking her things, expecting an answer. Sometimes I just know the answer, though.

I give her birthday gifts every year, too. This March was her twenty-sixth birthday. I gave her another pink rose and hired someone to clean her home. I know she's happy. Truly. And understood.

I think people need to be understood, not changed. Not put under a burden, nor pushed deeper into the burden. They also cannot be pushed into things they hate because they will then become the hate.

Start over if you can. Everyone deserves the second chance.

The End - Klergy

The End