Chapter 6 - The Funeral ft. I Know What You Did Last Summer

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Chapter 6 - The Funeral ft

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Chapter 6 - The Funeral ft. I Know What You Did Last Summer


June 1, 2018

The morning was bright and the grass wet with dew; reflecting the beaming rays of the sun. An ironic ensemble for Jessie's funeral.

The ruffle of lace against cotton and the light shuffle of footsteps were the only sounds made inside one part of the house. Indie was brushing her bright red hair away from her face, trying to get it into a neat bun. Her black, lace dress swishing softly against her knees as the breeze blew in from her open window.

Evergreen eyes stared back at her, a hollowness in its depths. A small frown marred her features, her thin lips pressed together. The bags under her eyes added the unpleasant touch of sleep deprivation. When was the last time I had properly rested?

Loud, heavy footfalls that could only belong to her father, echoed throughout the silent halls of their lonely home. John McAdams' tired head poked in, his face deep with lines and his wrinkles more prominent. His usual bright green eyes looked dull, with dark bags lining his eyes. He looked older than forty, a feature that could only be described as worrying. The case had taken a great toll on them both.

"Are you ready Red?" John stepped inside the bright room, a small tired smile on his lips.

Indie's eyes roamed over her father's features, worry pushing the hollowness back. While John looked dapper in his formal wear, the weight of the case was clearly wearing him down.

His shoulders were slumped, his gait like that of a limping man, his lines deeper and more pronounced; he didn't look like himself. It was as if it was a different person before her, and that worried her.

"Yeah, I just need to grab my purse dad. You can go on ahead to the car." She said, a small smile on her lips as she began to place her essentials inside her small purse.

Nodding, John walks out of the room, leaving Indie to her thoughts. Worry was starting to gnaw at her again as images of her father's tired face flashed through her mind.

The last time she had seen him this tired and weary was when - she shook her head, dismissing the thought. Nothing good ever came out with remembering the past.

Grabbing her purse, she finally heads out of her room and down to where her father was waiting by his car, an old Chevy. The bright 9:00 AM sun beat down on her as she crossed the lawn to where her father was standing.

It was too early for the sun to be high up in the sky, but not too early for it to be hot. She briefly wondered if it was because of summer's fast approach.

Seeing her approach, John went inside and started up the car, patiently waiting for his daughter. Slight pain and sorrow resurfaced at the thought of being blasted to the past again, its sharp claws slowly starting to take hold on him.

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