BROWN SKIN | BOOK 1

|| C H A P T E R . 29 ||

It didn't take long for news to spread like an infectious virus that Mahlik has been shot mutliple times in the chest.
Not making it to another tomorrow.
I haven't seen Simone in a few days, her disappearances always sudden, and if I did, I had yet to know. Her parents, Uncle Wesley and Aunt Sheliah were back in town rumors had, to attend his funeral. I knew it would be alot different with them here this time.

It's funny how traditionally, people dress up and socialize, celebrating his death with grievances as if it were a birthday. But this occasion didn't happen once a year for the better. The Dales somewhat grew up with Mahlik as they raised him as their own, giving him the support he needed to fill in the gaps of their own lost son. I only know because they sounded miserable and confused over the phone with Jewelz. With them mourning, this made her feel terrible and suggested we all go to the funeral to give our respects and love over the weekend.

I picked a spot somewhere in the room, stuck staring or in a daydream while drinking mango juice. I replayed the times that one night Beau and I almost got killed on spot by Mahlik. I remembered the way the coolness of the gun pointed at the crook of my neck, his rough grip around my body, securing me from scrambling away. The raspy foul words he spat at Beau to tick him and taunt him until he cracked. It would've been us. Those past few week could've been our death beds.

I couldn't bring myself to tell Jewelz any of this anyway, knowing it would risk mine and Beau's life in the long run as her confusion made her question things that didn't exist.

My lips even held a straight line as I raised the glass to my mouth, recalling no-good treasured memories like they were just yesterday, my attention too lost to realize Jewelz snapped her fingers in my face.

"Hello? Why aren't you dressed? We have to be there in five minutes." She shouted, her cherry-red lips wide and stood out against the knee-length depressing dress she wore.

When we arrived with the babies in the backseat, my chest tightened and cringed at the number of graves in neat rows on the shaved grass. Some of them had bouquets of wild flowers in every color around the headstones, pictures of the person that lived such a good life on feet but ended in the ground, and other memorial things.

Jewelz was sure of it, muttering incoherent words about missing the wake service in the chapel, but we went anyway.

Not many cars were parked in the lot like the last time I went to the church with Jewelz, but she made me go in just to see if anyone left would be in there.

The church wasn't as appealing as the one Beau once showed me. The ashy grey-stoned stairs wobbled when I walked on the cracked stones. Even the wooden railings wiggled. Pushing open the wooden door, it creaked, echoing in the church and I nervously gazed around the facility for anyone in particular. An elder man was leaning over in the back row, hysterically crying, just tears streaming down his face as he whispered words that could not be heard. He quietly prayed with his hands clasped together so hope wouldn't let him go. Two women were pushing a podium back on the stage carefully and others collected pamphlets off the ground. I would've gone up and asked one of them, but I had to really use the restroom. I knew I couldn't hold it by the time I made it up the aisles.

My heels afterward clicked on the glassy vintage floor, coming out, disturbing the silence. Down the single person hallway, I heard footsteps getting closer and my breath caught in my throat, dry, and my heart pummeled down to my stomach. Just like those times when I couldn't catch my breath at crashing vehicles and hearts crashing. Every second was more unbelievable than the next. My eyes the size of globes, scanned his presence, stuck in my spot, not believing he was here. Like here, here, right in front of me here.