Too much. (Devin Booker)

the hardest goodbye. (part 2)

When the funeral rolled around that Monday, I felt like a sack of bones. Like a meaningless soul squandering a perfectly decent body.

I saw my close relatives and teammates as they attended the funeral service. Everyone kept coming up to me saying their condolences. Lets be honest though, it wasn't enough to a.) bring back my mother, and b.) make me feel any better about my current situation.

Nearing the end of the service, I still hadn't gathered enough courage to walk up to my mom's casket. I just stood covertly in the corner as people passed by. I stared at the white walls and pastal flowers surrounding the place, and then slowly etched my way over to see my mother one final time.

She looked like an absolute angel. 

She was wearing an off white gown decorated with pearls and beads, along with lacey sleeves. And she was holding red roses that couldn't even begin to compare to her own beauty. It seemed like she was illuminating this type of heavenly glow God had personally blessed her with.

I didn't speak when I stood by my mom, didn't even touch her. All I could do was look at her and smile tearfully, while the inaudible three words escaped from my lips.

-

I had been home for four days, and in the midst I had been skipping the team's summer workout and all social aspects of my life. I pretty much went of the grid from everybody; friends, family, the media. 

Knock Knock Knock

Who the fuck had the audacity to knock on my door in my time of mourn?

"Hi, Tia." I murmured while opening the door.

"I brought food." She said, holding a metal tray covered in aluminum foil.

"I'm not hungry, geez." I huffed and then went back to my initial spot on the couch.

Tia had walked in, tray in hand, and then shut the door behind her. She made her way into the kitchen and stayed busy in there for awhile. 

After a short while she submerged from the kitchen holding two glass plates in her hand.

"One for you," She said while handing me a plate, "and one for me." She smiled lively and then sat down on the chair adjacent to me. 

"I figured you hadn't eat, and with basketball coming up-"

"No." I said while picking at the chicken on my plate and cutting off a small slice to devour. 

She took a deep breath and left her statement unfinished.

-

It was quiet in the room, and I actually kind of hated it. It was such a large contrast from the wild thoughts rummaging in my head.

"So, how have you been?" She asked, I'm guessing to make small talk.

"I've had better days." I rubbed my eyes and then set my plate on the table in front of me. 

"Well, I'm here if you need me." She stated, taking both mine and her plates to the kitchen. 

After she emerged again from the kitchen she spoke, "I put some leftovers in the fridge on the top shelf, I also put some drinks in there." She smiled sincerely and then made her way to the door.

"Whenever you get the chance, I left something on the table for you to read." With those final words escaping her lips, she went out the door.

I could hear her car leaving the driveway and again was left with my thoughts. 

-

I pretty much layed on the couch, dozing here and there. I checked the clock, as if time even mattered, and it read 4:38 am.

I walked down the wooden halls to the bathroom and took a along ass shower, trying to wash away all the poisonous thoughts in my brain, but I couldn't.

Everything in my body was telling me to end my misery, to let go in order to move on with my family. I was too weak though. I could stare at a knife, or a blade, or a pill bottle; and so desperately want to leave, but I just couldn't do it.

After I sat in the bathroom for what felt like hours staring at my hollow reflection, I decided to go to my room and actually sleep.

I didn't even want to think about tomorrow held, I just wanted to go to sleep with hopes that I would see my mom and dad in them.

A/N;

Welp, this isn't looking up. What do you guys think was on the table Tia left?