Abused and Unloved~

Chapter Thirty One

I stared into the mirror at my neatly secured half up half down hair style and sighed before pulling the tube of mascara out of Maria's makeup bag.

"She would do it for you Jess." I whispered to myself in reassurance as I applied the unfamiliar substance to my eyelashes. I don't wear makeup often unless it's for something special, but it felt wrong beautifying myself for an event like this.

"Almost done honey?"

I lower my arms again examining my reflection.

"I don't like it." My voice was weak as I looked in the mirror waiting for her face to come into view.

"Don't like what?"
"This. Putting on makeup and a dress. It feels wrong."

Her face finally appears and I regretted waiting for it because her expression instantly made me feel guilty about even complaining. I don't get to complain today. Today doesn't belong to me.

"You have to look decent, but you don't have to do anything crazy."

I take in another deep breath and finish caking my face for the greater good before going downstairs to grab myself something to eat.

I didn't expect myself to fear today so intensely. You would think a funeral party for Lucinda would be relieving for me, I would finally get to say my goodbyes. But it was the exact opposite of that. I felt like throwing up and dry heaving at the same time, but I couldn't, there were eyes everywhere.

It was odd that my parents were going to be there, and everyone else's parents were as well, but it would have felt even more odd if it was just a bunch of teenagers huddled around Lucinda's dead body with Lucinda's spacey mom.

My mind tried to block out the fact that her body would be there, I was silently praying I would be able to maturely handle that.

"Jess, are you ready? We're leaving."
"Already downstairs." I mumble not having enough strength to shout.

She finally appears seemingly flustered, "Oh you're already downstairs. Great." It appeared to be a wild day for all of us.

In no rush, I take another bite of my granola bar watching her patiently.

"Let's go. Greg we're leaving!" I feel my stomach start to cramp up at the thought of us leaving.

Greg materialized and there was no choice but to get in the car. I couldn't chicken out now, I'm the one who asked for this. I'm the one who argued I was strong enough to go and while I was certain that I wasn't, I knew I needed to see Lucy just one last time.

What snapped me out of my daze was her crooked house coming into view. It looked considerably different in daylight with no ambulance lights flashing. There was now an abundance of people on the front lawn standing along scattered framed pictures.

I chewed on my nail as I stared out the window anticipating having to get out and put my pretend face on.

Eventually Greg parks and we exit the car. Pictures of Lucy's young smiling face crowded the long entryway to their house. She would have hated her mom for putting up such cringey photos of her. It started to make my eyes feel dry and I instinctively looked down and counted my steps, clinging onto the ends of my black dress to distract myself. I never liked wearing black dresses, they reminded me of funerals.