My black dress ...

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My black dress was stiff and loose on me. Even the room around me was stiff and loose. People dressed in dark colors walking around slowly like zombies. Acting as if they were on egg shells. The food tasted bland to me, but food had been tasting bland for the past week. I didn't care if I starved from barely eating. I didn't care if I lost the ten pounds I'd gained.

I stared at the floor with my hands gripping the table behind me. My home which was once my sanctuary was suddenly turned into an unbearable cage of nothing. I no longer felt protected. All safety ever felt was suddenly gone. This house was now a trap.

A trap that I didn't think I would be able to pry myself from.

Tristan walked into the house in a black suit and tie. The only reason I knew it was him, my face still on the floor, is because he is the only person to step inside like the house was his. His long legs made it to me within seconds. He didn't touch me but I knew he wanted to. He just stood there.

"Jasmine, is there anything I can get you?" He asked tenderly. He was walking on egg shells, too. I didn't respond. He sighed and leaned against the table with me, shoving his hands into his pockets.

This is the first time seeing each other since I called him crying that morning. But ever since then, I've been ignoring him. So it's been a week. And right now, I just wanted to be left alone. Somethings Tristan made go away, but not this. No one could make this aching feeling within me go away.

Violet came up to Tristan and placed her hand on his arm.

"Thank you for coming."

"Of course." He said.

Sage came up and placed an arm around me. "Jazz, do you want to go upstairs?" I didn't respond. Lizzy came in with Jeff hand in hand. They steadily made their way to us.

"Hey, Jazz." Lizzy began. She paused and I figured she was looking at my sisters. "I'm really sorry."

I don't know why everyone keeps saying 'sorry'. It's not their fault! What did they do to have to say 'sorry'?

Miley and Hannah were also at the house. I thanked the Lord above for not making them come over to me and say 'sorry' as well. Thinking about them along with other guests that I wondered why were here just made me angry.

I pushed off from the table ignoring everyone's surprise and walked out the front door. No one stopped me but I heard a deep voice say he'd follow me. I hugged myself as I allowed the August heat envelop me. I just wanted to be alone on the lonely sidewalk, but casual steps could be heard behind me.

I thought of him. My dad.

Dad ...

A person I should have been a lot closer to.

Once again, I am the sibling closest to the parent. I guess Me being the youngest I get the most attention.

Mom ... and now dad, too.

God must really hate this family.

Diabetes.

How ironic.

His wife dies of anorexia and he dies from type one diabetes. DIB. Dead-in-bed syndrome. Usually found amongst young adults with type one diabetes.

But my dad had the unfortunate opportunity to go out that way.

It wasn't the fact that he passed away in his sleep. But the fact that he suffered alone. That he died alone. ... Just like mom.

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