10 | The Last Goodbye

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A/N: Hey Guys! Sorry about the wait on updating, I was stuck for a while, dealing with some stuff, and then the holiday came around. This chapter is half filler/ half important. Just know it's about to pop off y'all! Enjoy!

P.S. - Chase's look for the funeral in the MM.

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Three Days Later

The house feels so empty. There was once a feeling of love and compassion that filled this place. There was once laughter and smiles. There was once a family that loved and cared. There was once hope. All of that was gone now, and there was just me.

I looked into this mirror once again, looking at someone I didn't recognize. I had never been this broken. No matter what happened, there was always an inch of happiness, or hope within my heart. Today, it's different. I had attended my father's funeral and didn't look this bad. Maybe because I knew my father had lived a full life, and wasn't scared to die. He chose that it was his time, for his family. JoJo was different. He hadn't lived yet. He was still a baby. He didn't have a choice, nor a chance. My brother was snatched from me, and I just had to deal. I grabbed my sunglasses and pushed my hair over my shoulder, as I reached for my purse. I began out of the house and looked to the couch. The necklace he had given me from dad was still there. I put it on and exited the house. It was no longer my home.

The block was full of people dressed in all black. We all mourned for the same person, in different ways. People who didn't even know JoJo were coming to pay their respects. Maybe they knew another boy who had died to gun violence, maybe it was their cousin, uncle, brother. I didn't care. I was just happy my brother had people coming to tell him.. goodbye. I saw Parker standing with Cell and talking for a minute before looking in my direction. Cell shot me a gentle wave, and I raised my hand back in response before piling into my car and heading for the church.

I hadn't even spoken to Parker since that day in the hospital. He stopped by everyday for the past few days to talk but I never opened the door. I never opened it for anyone. He would come and tell me what was happening in the neighborhood. He sat on the porch of my house and I sat in front of the door on the inside and listened. I wanted to talk to him but this grief has restricted me from doing so. He would come and tell me about his mom, and Cell, tell me how Nino and Britt were doing, tell me that Latrice's mom had put her in therapy, tell me how he was doing, tell me he missed me, tell me anything at all to keep us close. I didn't have to cut him off like that but I had cut off everyone. I had cut myself off from the world. I didn't want to deal. I wanted to be alone, but today I knew would be different. I would have to face family, friends, and reporters. I just don't know if I can handle it.

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