24 Hours to Live · Tupac

❷❸: fulfilled wishes

❝ Show me a miracle, I'm hopeless. ❞

[SEVEN DAYS LATER]

AFTER THE CAR accident, Lena was took to the hospital to deal with her fractured nose and sprained wrist. Her injuries weren't that serious, she thanked the heavens. She was being sued from left to right from the people involved. She was also brought in for police questioning a couple days ago.

In current time, Lena applies makeup to hide the plenty scars that rests on her face. Her black hair sits pretty, all brushed out for once. All she's trying to do was bring life to her face, instead of looking like a sickly patient.

Going into her purse, she brings out her yellow notepad and a blue ink pen, struggling to remember the numbers. Just as she was going to give up, they resurface and she jots them down before they disappear again.

She hasn't been to work since, not wanting to face that right now. A soft knock comes at the door, "Lena, you ready?"

She clears her throat, glancing away from the numbers and into the bathroom's mirror. "Um, yeah. Here I come."

After putting her materials back into her purse she opens the door, seeing that the church mostly cleared out. Andrea smiles, "We gotta go before everyone leaves us, Chris is in the car waiting."

Christian and Andrea, the married couple with their own set of issues, were nice enough to accompany Lena as they prepared to head to the funeral. She couldn't drive with a jacked up truck and revoked license. Lena nodded, "All right."

The drive was long, long and boring. Unintentionally, the married couple would spice it up with their petty disagreements. Lena sat in the backseat all the while, gazing out of the window with a painted frown.

All week long, La'Shay didn't contact Lena and neither did Anthony. Besides this morning, of course. Shay called her up, spewing out an apology for what she did. All she did in return was hit that end button, hoping to never hear from her again.

Maybe Lena would end up knowing how depression is, but for now all she felt was numbness. Nothing quite to say, nothing quite to think.

Even at the funeral, her mood matched along with everyone's else's.. except for a certain lady who was balling her eyes out.

The pastor stands behind the podium, the sleek black casket was not closed. "We are gathered here today to celebrate the short-lived life of Paige Elise Moore."

Not many people were in attendance, but it's better than no one. Paige's aunt, Harriet, was doing all of the crying. Lena tuned her out as the service carries on and the wind being violent as it has been all week.

While he continues to talk in his flat monotonous voice, she brings out the yellow note, glaring at the figures. Andrea peers over with a whisper, "What's that?"

"I don't know," she replies, after all, she's telling the truth.

Folks walk up, having their final moments with Paige's pale body. Lena was disgusted by the people, they never reached a limb out while she was in distress and now that she is no longer here, everyone suddenly cares.

Christian and his wife stayed seated and Lena didn't want to view her body, not knowing what emotion it would trigger. She doesn't have much of a choice if she plans on fulfilling the girl's wish. Slowly, as Harriet watched, she dug into her purse and pulled out Paige's locket.

Every step she took towards the casket felt like a mile. Lena stands, the locket in her left hand, and the note in the other. As she trails her eyes to Paige's face, nothing happens. She doesn't breakdown, she doesn't cry, or get angry. Simple numbness.

Quite honestly, the only thing flowing through her mind was what Tupac had said to her.

"Everyone's faces was blurred out. I could only see yours. And.. you had this yellow paper in your hand. Like, a sticky note. Oh, and some kinda silver chain."

Now that was haunting. Lena drops the heart locket into the casket and abruptly turns on her heel. Going back to her aisle, she grasps Christian's attention, "Is it okay if we leave now?"

Less than an hour and a half later, she's back into her silent apartment. Sitting at her table all alone. Not exactly, she had her Hennessy. Drawing out Paige's manila folder from the middle of the table, she opens it and takes a black pen, writing down an eight letter word, followed by a period.

Her home phone startles Lena, she stands and walks to the kitchen, "Hello? Oh.. hi. How is he? Yeah, yeah, I'm listening..."

Five long minutes later, the call is ended and Lena returns to the table, placing a hand on her forehead as her lip slightly quivers. Tears cloud her vision, but she manages to halt them before more can show up.

From up under the first folder, she grabs Tupac's. She tries to calm her shaky hand so that her writing is not as sloppy as what she wrote on Paige's paperwork. Her eyes settle on the only thing that she's written so far, which is from last week.

Tupac Shakur - a troubled man who intensely fears that he is living his final twenty-four

She brings her bottom lip in between her teeth, moving to a space under to duplicate what was scripted not too long ago.

STATUS: Deceased.