I haven't cried since I was five. I didn't even shed a tear after my parent's death. My previous therapist told me I repressed my feelings because I was afraid of facing reality. I think he was a total idiot. I didn't repress my feelings. Matter of fact, I've tried to cry. Kind of like right now. As I stood in the shower letting the water run over me, I thought about the last time I saw my parents smile. It was the morning before their deaths and I was helping my mom with breakfast. Austin and AJ were still in bed and dad was out for his daily run. I was setting the table when dad came in all drenched in sweat and must. I had held my nose and told him that he needed a shower but instead he ran to me and picked me up, hugging my small body to him. I was giggling like mad and even mom couldn't help to do the same when he grabbed her and pulled her to us. Despite his repulsive smell, it always felt good to be in his arms. As I remembered this scene, I felt more like puking than crying.
"Lucy," Scar called me from behind the door.
"Yes," I answered softly, watching my toes sink under the hot water.
"Are you guys heading down today?" she asked me.
"Yes," I replied, running my soggy fingers through the stringy strands of my hair.
"Well, AJ is waiting outside. He's uh, smoking a cigarette. I told him to stop but..." Scar explained.
"Okay," I said, not even caring enough to react.
Turning off the water, I stepped out of the shower, not surprised when I saw the small room was fogged up as well as the window, mirror, and the door knob. I wrapped my towel around me and walked out the bathroom. Scar had left and thankfully had closed the door behind her. I spent almost twenty minutes rubbing lotion on my skin and moisturizing my hair. Afterwards, I put on my favorite white sundress that reached down to my ankles and had little red roses running down the side. My hair was still damp so I pushed it back with a red headband and then put on the red crystal earrings and necklace my dad gave my mom on their 15th anniversary. Slipping on sandals and grabbing my purse, I put my sunglasses on and left the room.
"I'll see you guys later," Scar called after me as I walked past her in the kitchen.
As I was told, AJ was waiting outside and he was finishing the last of his cigarette. While I was the repressor, AJ was the displacer. He took his pain and anger out on a variety of things from fist fights in school to illegal drugs and sketchy activities. Marching up to him, I grabbed the smoking stick from his mouth and threw it down.
"What the hell?" AJ cried as I stomped it out.
"Just because today is the death of our parents doesn't mean you can do your disgusting and illegal shit. Got it?" I snapped at him before heading to the car.
"Just because today is the death of our parents doesn't mean you need to be a bitch," AJ countered as we pulled out of the driveway. I said nothing, preferring to remain quiet since it was going to be a very long ride. Lowering the windows to let some fresh air in, I turned up the volume to the radio and began the journey ahead of us.
***
My parents and brother weren't buried in a big cemetery with the rest of the deceased strangers in our small team. My grandparents preferred them to lay to rest in the backyard of our home. Every other week, someone would come and mow the back lawn, pull out the dead flowers and replace them with new ones, and trim the small trees that wrapped around the three graves.
"See, Austin's grave hasn't been dug up. Obviously you didn't see him the other day," I mumbled to AJ as we stood in front of the three headstones. My eyes read over the words of each headstone carefully.
