BitterSweet Cherries

Chapter 9

Death has always been a weird concept for me. I could count on one hand the amount of times I'd ever encountered it. My grandmother Marie, this senior at my old school who drove drunk and got turned into a lecture point, and my stepdad Phil's brother.

I had attended all the funerals. I stared at the bodies— no, the corpses—  and realized that all I was looking at was a sack of flesh and blood and bones, no different than the deer or squirrels you see dragged off to the side of the road after being hit.

But that meat sack had housed a soul. It had laughed and sung and cried. Had played hopscotch and jump rope as a child. Had spent hours crying after their first heartbreak. Had argued with their parents over bad grades. And now, Nothing.

It wasn't a sadness or shock, but a surreal feeling that I couldn't exactly name. And I felt the exact same way now.

It had been a week since my father's best friend, a man who had been in my life since a child and was practically family- had died. And not a peaceful death, no, but a gruesome one. Mauled to death on a hunting trip.

The first night was spent at the Clearwater household. Dad had wanted to be there for the family. Me too.

There had been lots of crying. Seth was distraught. So was Sue. Leah, who was the first person I'd gone to look for, was nowhere to be found. Sue said that Leah had been having the most trouble and needed space. I'd wanted to ask more but those were the only words I was able to get out of the woman besides her sobs.

Since then, everything had seemed to blend together. Just moments of held breath and clock-ticking, waiting for the main event: the funeral. Because even though you know someone is dead, you don't really know until the funeral. It's like the green light to start grieving.

I'd just finished getting dressed.

Owning none of my own, I had borrowed one of Bella's black dresses. Standing in the mirror, I run my hands over the sides of it.

It rested higher on my thighs than it did my sisters and was tight in some areas, naturally because Bella didn't really eat all that much. I wondered if I should be concerned about that, but one battle at a time.

Grabbing my purse, I make my way out into the hall, towards Dad's door, and knock. The door is pulled open and I'm welcomed to a fully dressed and ready Charlie.

The sight catches me off guard at first. He'd hardly left his room the last couple of days and at night I would hear his sniffling. I'd halfway expected him to be the same way this morning. His eyes are still puffy but he looks much better.

"Would you mind starting the car, Sweetheart? I'll be down in a second."

"Sure thing," I smile, before closing the door back.

I'm much more careful going down the stairs than usual, the fear of falling down them still lingering behind.

As soon as I enter the kitchen I'm greeted by the site of Bella. She had never been one for emotions like I was and preferred to support Dad in acts of service. The last couple of days she had spent cleaning up the house, making Dad's favorite foods, and taking messages from his friends at the Police station.

"Here," She hands me a cup of coffee as soon as she sees me.

I stare at the cup for a few seconds before shrugging and raising it to my lips. I'm not much of a coffee drinker, but if she was offering...

"No," Bella stops me, taking something out of the oven, "Bring it to Charlie."

I nod. That makes more sense. Footsteps were heard from the staircase and Dad emerged.