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Luke's POV
The sound of the prolonged beep still rang in my ears as I dropped to my knees.
I turned around to see her parents, finding them completely crushed. Tears streamed down her father's face as I sobbed into her mother's arms. The sobs racked through my entire body.
There wasn't a single part of me that didn't hurt; not one square inch escaped the suffering of losing her.
From the top of my head where her hands used to fumble through my hair while we would watch a movie to the tips of my toes where she used to step when I taught her to dance before the prom.
I crumbled to the floor and felt the cold tile on my face. I was completely broken; absolutely unfixable.
I was suffocating under the weight of it all. I gasped for air as her last words played in my mind; the final wish of the person that meant the most to me.
As my sobs turned to cries and my cries into single falling tears I slowly made my way back to her bed.
As I grasped her tiny hand in both of mine, I spoke to her one last time.
It was nearly inaudible when I finally choked out the words, "I promise."
Cont. Luke's POV
I am numb.
The pain I've felt over the past four days is inexplicable. There was screaming, crying, and forcing myself to sleep in hopes of waking up from this nightmare, but reality hit me harder each time my eyes opened again.
This isn't fair, I thought to myself. None of it. You were the one who suggested going surfing. You were the one who dared her to go for that big wave.
She had gladly accepted the challenge and she would have executed the ride perfectly if... if it wasn't for that stupid shark.
It was just as she was making it into the deep waters when it's enormous fin emerged.
I screamed until my throat bled and paddled to her as quickly as humanly possible, but it was too late.
The damage had been done. The girl who had once been my best friend was nearly unrecognizable covered in crimson and shredded flesh.
Today was the day of the funeral. I wore a grey suit with a black button-up shirt underneath because Lily always said it made me look like James Bond.
"I don't know about that, but it does make me feel important," was my regular response.
And to that she would always say with a smug look on her face, "You are important, Luke Hemmings. Don't you ever forget that."
As I fastened the final buttons on the long sleeve shirt, I tried to push away the memories from the last time I had worn it. It was our last school dance before we would head off to uni and I had asked Lily to be my date; as friends of course. I pressed my hand over my heart, remembering the place that she had placed the boutineer. Lily being Lily, she had poked me five times before she properly got it attached to my shirt. It didn't feel good, but I laughed the whole time as our mums snapped hundreds of pictures.
When I came back to reality I was surrounded by faces, many of which were familiar and others that I'd never seen before.
My seat was between my own mother's and hers. Not because I could keep them strong or provide any comfort, but because I was hopelessly lost and at any moment I knew I could be dragged under and overwhelmed with grief.
I can't recall how many times I collapsed in my chair; hunched over trying stop my silent sobs as not to disrupt the eulogies of those who loved her.
It was a testament to who she was, the amount of people that stood and spoke of her life and how it touched their own. Old friends, distant family members, teammates, and even past teachers told little stories of moments in which she had brightened their day.
When it was my turn I slowly stood and made my way to the casket. Others had chosen to remain in their seats while speaking, perhaps they did not want to get too close.
I on the other hand ran my hand along the smooth wood and then kissed it as tears slid down my face and soaked through.
My voice shook as I gave the overused heartfelt speech that everyone else recites at funerals.
The usual talk of how beautiful and precious life is and that we shouldn't take it for granted, but they weren't the words of suffering and loss, they were just a disguise to hide my real feelings.
Believe me when I tell you that there are no words in the English language, any language for that matter, that can describe that feeling.
The feeling when your whole reason to live has been taken from you, but you're still here; gasping for air.
My hands had a permanent shake now. It was slight and difficult to notice, but definitely there.
They practically vibrated as I reached up to place that last bouquet of daisies on her casket. The ones I tried to give her the day she left.
YOU ARE READING
Trust Fall // l.h
Fanfiction"...I need you to promise me one thing." "Anything, anything you want." "I want you to keep making people happy." How am I supposed to do that now?
