When I woke up on the morning of Bry's funeral, I felt sick to my stomach. I could feel the lump in my throat, but even worse was the dread in my chest. I stared up at my ceiling, the hourglass taunting me. It was a horrible reminder of what little time we really had.
"I just hope I have enough time to do it all," Bry sighs.
"Bry! Your only 18, what're you worried about?" I argue.
"You don't... worry?" He asks.
Had he known then? I curled up on my side, globs of tears washing my cheeks. I had tried so hard for the past week to stop crying, but today? I let every tear fall without remorse. I didn't care if people thought I was crying too much, or maybe not enough, today wasn't about that. Today was about Bry, nothing else. I clutched my arms, desperate for any feeling that wasn't pain. I had never felt this much grief in my life, and it was hitting me hard enough to drive me numb.
"Don't worry, it won't hurt," The doctor promises.
"I'll hold your hand if you want me to," Bry offers gently.
"Considering you and your friend broke my nose?" I scoff, pouting. "I'm good."
"Kal!" Bry laughs. "I told you, it was an accident! We're very sorry."
"How do you manage to throw a football right into someone's face anyway?" I retort.
"Easy. When you aren't paying attention and never see the person coming." He says defensively. "I promise, it'll never happen again. I'm sorry."
"Do you feel any pain?" The doctor asks, distracting me.
"No... it's pretty numb, actually." I tell them.
"Good," The doctor smiles. "This won't hurt a bit."
I opened my eyes, my cheeks wet. By the time I was able to gather my thoughts, I saw that it was close to one in the morning. Sitting up slowly, I dreaded the day ahead. I knew I couldn't sleep, so I sat on my bed, lost in thoughts. So many memories flooded through me, and that's when an idea sprung into my head; I would write everything down from the moment we'd met. I got up, walking over to my closet and pulling out an old journal I'd never used.
Getting a pencil from my desk, I sat down on my bed and opened the blank notebook. For minutes I stared at it, trying to figure out what to say. Putting the pencil on the paper, I started to write. I wrote about our first encounter, how Bry had always worn his backpack with one strap, and how we'd become best friends despite having no classes together. I wrote about his strength, and how he'd been one of the top students on the track team after years of competing. Then, I found the words flooding across the page effortlessly. I didn't have to think, just let my hand move across the paper and fill it with my feelings and memories.
By the time the sun had begun to rise, I wasn't tired. I was filled with grief and another kind of emotion. I couldn't name it, but I recognized it. It was the kind of feeling that left you electrified. The kind of feeling that made you wide awake, unable to close your eyes. It left you shaking but feeling satisfied. As I stared at the now full journal, I let out a shaky breath. Some of the words on the page, I remembered writing. But most of it? I was in awe that I'd gone into such detail about him without losing my mind. Through the pages, it felt like he was alive again. Like he was breathing through every word I'd written.
I stood up, quickly got dressed, and then walked into my living room as I re-read his mom's text.
7:50 PM- It's at Holy Baptist on twelfth street at 9 AM.
YOU ARE READING
Most Lovely Words
RomanceWhen Kallie finds out that Bry, their long-time best friend, is dying of cancer, they are convinced that he will be different, and he will live. After all, he's the track athlete, so he must be strong enough, right?
