I was the babysitter. {A Chandler Riggs Fanfic.}

Chapter One.

"She was the love of my life. But now, there's nothing i can do to bring her back." I spoke as my hands trembled, trying to steadily read off the crumpled notecard in my hand.

When I finished my speech I rubbed my eyes, making my way off the pedestal.
February Eighth was the day she died.
February Thirteenth was the day of her funeral.
That was today.
I made my way back to my seat, trying not to trip over my feet.
Sorry for the rhyme. Don't turn the love of my life's death into something funny.
As I sat down I shook my hair out of my eyes, and looked over to the person next to me, sitting solemnly with his head hung low.
Another woman rose to the pedestal, sniffling to hold back tears.
"Hello. My name is Claire. Y/N was my niece, and I am so incredibly sorry that I was not there for her in her time of need."
Though I was far away, I could see a tear run down her cheek.
"No one knows how she died. There was a b-bullet..." She choked, biting on her lip to collect herself.
"And Chandler called the police. But the autopsy reports didn't include any details." She was shaking, and at this point could not stop crying.
"I cant, I'm sorry." She moved away from her pedestal, and back to her seat.
What the hell? You barely even knew the girl.
As everyone began to rise to leave the funeral, I made my way up to her casket.
I slipped out a piece of paper from my pocket, My favorite picture of us. I tucked it into the side of the casket, along with a rose.
"I'll see you soon." I muttered, before turning in the opposite direction.
*****
As the taxi dropped me off at my small apartment, I grabbed my key from the top of the doorframe, and unlocked the door.
I returned the key to it's home, and walked inside where I closed the door behind me. I moved past the towels lined up along the floor, covering the numerous bloodstains that after hours of scrubbing, I just could not manage to get out.
I dragged myself out into the living room, examining the small, framed photos of me and Y/N lined up against the wall.
I stopped and ran my fingers over one, a loud sigh coming from the back of my throat.
I took the photo down, and leaned it face down against the coffee table.
I then moved to my bedroom, where I slammed the door behind me. I pulled my tie off my neck, and hung it against the hook on the back of my door.
I picked up the phone to check my instagram, seeing numerous comments that mostly stated, 'sorry for your loss.'
I rolled my eyes and threw my phone to the other side of my bed, and slipped off the black jacket to my suit, which i threw on the floor.
I crawled under the blankets of my seeming ghostly-empty bed, and closed my eyes as my head hit the pillow. It was only midday, but I was exhausted.
Ding.
I mumbled cuss words under my breath as I heard the doorbell sound, echoing throughout my small apartment. I kicked off my sheets and rose from the bed, moving out of the bedroom.