Troubled

35: The Funeral.

Last chapter of the book. This journey has been amazing. This is the first story I have ever finished and I am quite proud of it. Hope you read the next books I publish!
And by the way, since this is the end, I made this chapter 8,000 words long!
And just so you know, Something in the Way by Nirvana is the best song to listen to in a car.
Thanks for reading! Love you!
- Adriana.

-

Megan Crawford.
Thursday, September 24th 2015.
07:16.

Kyle drove us down to Washington.

Kyle had gone on and on about how he wanted to come with me to the funeral. I thought he was just telling me that he could drive me because he was scared that I would swallow more pills when he was not around. I was not sure if I would have done it if I had gotten the chance, but since it was me, I knew that it would have crossed my mind. It was better this way though, with him driving his red car that I loved so much down the highway as I rested my feet on the dashboard and my cheek on the cold window.

He had gotten a room in the same hotel that I would be in. He had promised that it was fine, and I had believed him, because I knew that spending money was not a problem for him the way it was for me. We had made our suitcases for the two days we would be gone and then we had left.

It was a five hour car ride. I fell asleep thousands of times, only to be waken up with a kiss on my forehead and the faint whisper of a familiar voice telling me that we were on a rest stop. He was so gentle with me, when we made conversation, he listened to me talk with a small smile on his face. It did not matter if we were just discussing the warm weather, the last book we had read. He really made me feel loved.

It was the loveliest thing. I watched the highway from the window, there were trees of the most beautiful green color and there were horses on the side of the road. It was all so rustic and amazing, I wanted to stay there for as long as possible. The sun was about to rise on the light pink sky, the only sounds that could be heard were the wind and the classical music in the car, the one person around was the best one I could have chosen to be with. He had one hand on the steering wheel and the other one was holding mine, our fingers laced together. He brought my palm up to his lips and kissed it.

"What are your thoughts on Pink Floyd?" I wondered. We were talking about music now, and we were realizing that both of us were really fond of bands. But we still had distinct tastes, because the ones that I loved were too old for him, and the ones that he listened to were too alternative for me.

"Good band, my favorite song by theirs is Another Brick in the Wall," Kyle admitted. I smiled a bit. I was glad to know that I was going out with someone that at least knew about these kinds of things. It was culture, and to me, it was essential that everyone learned about it. Almost everyone I had ever met thought I was insane because I liked the music I liked. But he did not, and it was one of the millions of reasons the time spent with him was so meaningful to me.

"I could never decide," I confessed. It was too hard for me to choose among all the unbelievable songs Pink Floyd had. They were unusual and just too good to be true. But as I considered it for a moment, I realized that there were some tracks of theirs that had always meant more to me than the others. I said, "I think mine could be Wish You Were Here and Money."

"Both really amazing," Kyle granted. He had his eyes on the road as he took one of the cups of coffee we had bought on the last rest stop. There was silence for a moment, and it was so calm and wondrous. There were few moments when nothing was said and everything was just fine. I shared hundreds of those with him, because I was really content when he was there. He added, "My mom loved their albums. Had them all."