Untouchable

The Moment I Knew

A/N: One of the first chapter I wrote for this story. I wrote it all the way back on the first day of 2013. Well, technically the second considering how late I stayed up.

Explosions in my head and I hope you like it to because I stayed up till 2:40 in the morning writing the flashback.

Enjoy :)
______________________

You should've been there,

I sit on the chair, knees curled to my chest. She should be here--both of our families and friends are here. She would have been so happy to be surrounded by all of them; but she is gone. The funeral and burial passed just a few hours ago. Now we are all here eating food at her aunts house, pretending to be happy. Pretending to welcome in the new year.

With that 'baby I'm right here' smile

I'm sitting next to Matt. We are in the kitchen. The chatter of people surrounds me. But I don't make out any words. I don't try to. Matt is sitting on a couch sort of thing, that wraps halfway around a table. Kind of like a booth at a restaurant. I stare down at nothing in particular. The baby is being smothered by some relative somewhere in the house I'm sure. I honestly can't care less at this point.

All I feel is pain. It sets down on my bones like frost, and chills me to the core.

I keep waiting for her to burst through that door and say "just kidding!" but I know that will not happen. She died in my arms. I saw it. I felt it. I can still hear her voice echo in my mind, saying nothing in particular. It's like she's right behind me; but every time I turn around, it's not her.

A million little shining stars had just aligned, and I would've been so happy

Some people can just be complete idiots. How do you think I feel after losing her? I don't even know if it's possible to describe the pain. Every time they ask, another flashback of her face comes back, and when it leaves, I am left more empty than before. I have yet to answer to the question so many people ask.

I could be a statue.

Matt and I, we are not alone at this table. Carly, Mike and Ian are here, as well as her dad Scott, her brother Austin, and Abigail. Scott's words snap me out of my faze, as I realize he is talking to me.

"Sorry?" I murmur. I look into his eyes but what I see is a million miles from the surface.

"I said, I don't feel badly of your tattoos. And I'm sorry if I ever made any snide remarks about them. They don't prove that you're a mean cold guy. In fact, you are quite the opposite. Your speech was very good."

His voice always reminds me of Forrest Gump. But tonight it is hoarse and empty. I always knew he was against tattooed guys. He thinks they instantly label them as rebels. He is finally apologizing about the dirty looks he had given me back in the beginning. I nod my head in thanks and approval.

And the hours pass by,

Metta, the one hosting this dinner, comes up to the table with a book tucked under her arm.

"Scott, Josh," she rubs my shoulder, "Douglas and I are so deeply saddened and sorry. We want to let you know that we are here for you if you need anything. We want to help as much as possible. And Josh, your speech was wonderful."

I look up at her and nod my head. I can't speak. If I even try to make a noise, I know it will instantly turn into a sob.

"Cathy made this book of memories here. Take a look." She places the book on the table. It is hard cover, with two pictures on the front. One of Taylor as a baby, and one of her as an adult. I clench my jaw.