All Too Well ⏤ Tim Shepard | ✓

CHAPTER SEVEN

"Hey, Tommy." Becca places fresh sunflowers at his grave. Wild sunflowers had always grown in the vacant block of land near their old house and Tommy used to pick them out and place them in Becca's hair, behind her ear. He'd always tell her that sunflowers were perfect for the sunniest girl in his life. "I know it's been a while, I'm sorry 'bout that. It's summer now and work is so busy. That's no excuse though. I need to make more time to visit my big brother."

Like always, silence greets her. The sun beats down on her, not a single cloud in the sky. Becca thinks Tommy is looking down on her, not being able to talk back but listening to every word she says.

"I really miss ya. It's been four years and it still hasn't got any easier. I dunno if it will ever." Still, silence greets her. "Things really fuckin' suck, Tommy. Daddy's gettin' let out from the cooler soon and Momma's lettin' him come back." Becca swallows down the lump in her throat. She knows Tommy won't be able to respond back to her, but it gives her comfort telling it to his grave, knowing he felt the same way Becca did.

In some way, what their father did was more of a betrayal to Tommy than it was to Becca. Tommy always viewed their father as his best friend, his hero. Finding out what his father was capable off, how he had permanently injured somebody else with his own hands had shattered him. A part of his heart had broken and could never be mended to the way it was before. It's like when a vase shatters and no matter how you glue the broken pieces back together, the vase isn't the way it was before it broke.

"Momma's choosin' him over me and I can't stand it. How can she let him come back after what he done? He ⏤ he almost killed someone and she's happy he's bein' let out. I can't understand it. I won't understand it, no matter how many times she tells me."

Becca's hands shake along with her voice. She's internalised all these thoughts for far too long and now it's all coming out. Despite the heavy weight in her chest, she feels lighter saying these words out loud. As much as she wishes Tommy was right here with her, she can say exactly how she feels and not worry about how the other person will react. She doesn't have to bite on her tongue to stop herself from saying exactly how she feels, to not look like a void filled with endless rage in front of her mother or friends.

It scares her, how one day she feels so empty and then the next day she's filled with so much rage she doesn't know what to do with herself.

Becca says her goodbyes to Tommy, promising to not leave so much time between visits and makes her way back to Diana's brother's truck. She passes by graves, inscribed with people she recognises and people she doesn't. She passes by people who lived long lives and people who didn't. Death doesn't discriminate; it doesn't matter if you're rich or not, if you're a Soc or a Greaser, if you're a good person or not. Everybody dies.

But some people are ripped away from this world while others drift away peacefully.

Tim and his siblings are standing in front of the grave, several feet away. His sister, Angela, places a small bouquet of flowers down before standing beside her brothers. All three Shepard siblings have identical stoic expressions on their faces; emotionless and blank like an empty canvas.

Becca turns away, not wanting to intrude on the moment. She wouldn't appreciate it if someone approached her while she was at Tommy's grave.

When she reaches Glenn's truck, Diana is already leaning against it, a cigarette between her fingers. "You ready to go?" she asks.

Becca nods her head. "Yeah, let's go."

They both don't mention the tear tracks down each other's faces. 

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