My Life: Congrats, You Lost Me

The Funeral

***It was brought to my attention that I should have included Becca's funeral in the story at some point. By the time I remembered it there was no point in the story I could just add it seamlessly. This is not dated, simply because I'm not sure when it could happen... Also it adds a bit to some of their characters in case you're interested.***

I stood in front of my bedroom mirror with tears in my eyes as I looked over myself. I still looked battered and bruised, my arms thin and pale. And in my hand, I held a picture frame. Inside the frame held a picture of Becca, Allan and I.

I stare down at it as salty tears drip down my cheeks. "I miss you, Becks," I croak, dripping tears onto the blue frame. I set the frame down onto my dresser and look back up at myself. I take in a long, deep breath before reaching shakily for my drawers.

I pull out a long black dress with a deep red bodice, the only dress I own, really. I let it rest on top of my dresser as I took off my t-shirt and my shorts. I lifted the dress over my head and let it fall around my body. I tightened the strings that held a corset-like bodice. I tightened them until it nearly hurt before letting it fall loose again.

What am I doing? I need to be leaving soon, I can't do this. I tied the strings of my bodice as it held me together. I look at myself in the mirror again. As I reach for my hair brush I hear a faint knock at the door. I turn and walk towards it, twisting the knob and pulling it open.

Behind it was Allan, already dressed in a black suit. He took my empty and in his and pulls me closer to him, using his other hand to wipe my eyes. "You look beautiful," he whispers.

"No I don't," I mumble, pulling myself away, blinking back more tears. I run my brush through my hair a couple times, Allan saying nothing, just standing in the doorway. "Allan, you should go," I finally say. "Be with Eliza, I'm sure she needs somebody more than me right now."

"Jessie," he starts. I cut him off as I pick up my black jacket.

"No, I don't need you to comfort me like this. I can deal with things when I'm alone."

"Having somebody never hurt anybody, Jess," he says, reaching for me again.

I flinch away, causing him to pull back again. "I've dealt with things alone for a long time. All anybody ever does is make it worse. Your mom needs you. Leave, please." I turn away and I hear a faint sigh, footsteps, and my bedroom door swinging shut.

Instantly I'm broken. I collapse onto the floor with my hairbrush in hand. Stop it. Stop it you selfish bitch. Its your fault anyway. Stop crying and pick yourself up. Brush off the dust and move on. Fix your makeup, quit acting like you're the only one dealing with this. You weren't the only one who loved her, so stop acting like it.

I take in a shaky breath and open my eyes, staring down at my wrists. I still had scars from a long time ago. I had stopped after the first time, but I couldn't help but think. I could end it now, but I won't. She would want me to be strong, for her.

I stand with the aid of my bed and run my brush through my hair a couple more times. I approach my dresser and pull out my makeup bag. I take out a deep red shade of lipstick and trace it across my thin lips. I look in the mirror for a moment; I had scratches running down my cheek, bleeding. I look down at my hands to see that a few of my nails had blood around the edges.

I rub the blood from them and return to the mirror. Grabbing a few more things and applying them sparingly I look at myself again.The scratches and bruises were hidden. There were no more tear stains down my cheeks. My hair had curled itself at it's ends, framing my face gently.