You Look So Pretty When You Can't Find Your Grave (Kellic)

Chapter Three.

*Vic's POV*
Officer Mullins and I entered a cold, white room where there were metal tables with long, black plastic bags on top.

It was the moment of truth, "What's their descriptions?" he asked.

I felt a lump forming in my throat so I coughed, trying to clear it off.

"My mother had short light blonde hair, hazel eyes, she was a shorter than me and had lighter skin than the rest of us. My father had black hair, a mustache, brown eyes, he was around my height, and his skin was a little darker than mine. My brother... Well m-my brother looked a lot like me but the only difference was that he was taller and his body was covered with tons of tattoos. He had lip piercings and last time I saw him, he dyed his hair black," I told him.

He looked through some files he had been holding, showing my family's passports and tears started streaming down my face, "Y-Yes, that's them." I don't know the exact number, but we passed by more two hundred bodies in plastic bags as we walked down the hall.

"Your mother is number 243," I walked towards the bag and he quietly stood behind me.

I slowly placed my fingers on the zipper and unzipped the bag, "Oh my god, mamá, why did this happen to you?"

It didn't look like her but I knew it was her. She was wearing a white blouse with pink flamingos on them, I remembered I had given her that blouse on Christmas 3 years ago and I was surprised that she still had it. Her face was swollen, she was covered with deep cuts and bruises, her clothes were torn but she somehow had the most peaceful look on her face.

I gave my mom one last hug as more tears streamed down my face, the officer lightly pulled me back, "Mr. Fuentes, we need to identify your other family members, we... we need to make space for more bodies coming in," he said.

More? How big was this plane? How many people had died?

He guided me a little further down from where my mother was, "Your father is number 268." He stood behind me as he did before, giving me space. I opened the bag, revealing my dad's swollen face. He had more cuts and bruises than my mother did, I wouldn't doubt it if they told me he died trying to protect my mother. He was wearing a grey tshirt with a guitar design my mother had given him for his birthday, it was one of his favorite things to wear.

I hugged him, "I didn't want this to happen, papá," I whispered. I pulled away and closed the bag, letting Mullins guide me to my brother.

"Number 369," was all he said.

I mentally laughed at the number, my brother and I were some immature kids and I was sure he would've laughed too. I opened the bag and saw him, he looked worse than my parents did.

"Your brother was sitting next to the window, the plane crashed on the side he was sitting on which is why he suffered the most body damage," he informed me.

I remembered how Mike and I would fight over who would get to sit in the front of the car with my dad when we were kids. Like always, he would win because he looked older than I was and he was a lot taller so I would end up sitting in the back with my mom. My brother, my bestfriend, my partner in crime... gone.

I couldn't help but finally yell out, "Why did this have to happen?! Hermano, wherever you are, take care of mamá and papá. Why did you leave me? I know it wasn't your fault, but you've survived so many things before. Motorcycle accident, car accident, even a gunshot wound!"

Mike was at the wrong place at the wrong time when two gangs had a shootout in San Diego and mistook him for a gang member. He was close to death but he made it, he was stronger than I was, I even thought he was invincible. I kissed his forehead and closed the bag.

"How much time do I have to take my family out of here?" I asked.

"They'll be transported in a morgue in the city, you can pick them up there but you only have a week to get everything prepared," he put his hand on my shoulder, "Listen, kid. I can't imagine the pain you feel right now but things happen for a reason. You'd think that being a cop for so many years will help me get used to things like this but it gets harder every time. You can make it out of this, it will take time but you can do it. I don't usually do this but call me if you need help with anything."

He wrote down his number on a piece of paper and handed it to me before we exited the room I never wanted to see again.

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☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆
Sorry if it's too depressing or if it's slow. It's a bit of a filler chapter but it has its purpose. Comments are appreciated! Thanks :)