Confessions About Colton (Wattpad Books Edition)

Anger - Chapter 2

I had been to only two funerals in the eighteen years of my existence. The first one was for my grandfather, who had passed from cancer. It wasn't a difficult experience, and I mean that in the most sensitive way possible. It was just expected. My family and I had been preparing for months, saying our goodbyes and spending as much time with him as possible. We just knew.

Colton's was number two. What made it ten times harder was the fact that I hadn't known he was going to die. Nobody had. This made the pain strike stronger than the last time I had lost someone. The knot in my stomach tightened into a suffocating squeeze, the desperation for closure shredding my insides to ribbons. It kept getting worse, the feeling intensifying, slowly making me feel like I might implode at any sudden movement.

Then a shoulder blade nudged into mine and for a fraction of a second, it gave me a physical sensation—no more pain than a pinch, but pulling me from my thoughts to focus on my current surroundings. The guy who had bumped me smiled sheepishly, apologized, and joined a group of people engaging in a solemn conversation.

It was only then that I thought, Who are these people?

I had known many of them almost all of my life: classmates, family, friends, important members of the community. But in that moment, they were complete strangers. Who were the people that were crying into tissues and exchanging a damp Kleenex or two? Who were the people that were visiting with Colton's family and mumbling generic things like deepest sympathies and sincerest apologies? Who were the people engrossed in deep conversations, mentioning Colton's name as if he were a brother to them?

It made my blood boil. It made my fists clench. It made my jaw tighten and triggered something hungry and wild and powerful: anger.

"I can't believe he's gone," said Lydia, Colton's girlfriend, joining me by one of the pews. "Who could have done this to him? It's all over the news . . ."

"I don't know."

She brushed a piece of strawberry blond hair away from her face and dabbed under her eyes. "I—I think I'm going crazy. I keep hearing his voice, hallucinating that he's here. It's like he's trying to communicate to me from beyond the grave."

"Doubt it." I kept my voice monotone.

"Maybe I just need counseling," she whispered while staring off into the distance.

"Maybe."

"You're doing that thing again," Lydia said, craning her neck to look at me with her big green eyes.

My teeth clenched, a tick pulsing in my jaw. "What?"

"That thing where you answer in one-word sentences," she said. "I need someone to talk to, Elliot. Please. This is hard for me."

Her words buried their way under my skin, latching on and cutting the single thread of control I had left. I turned to her. My anger had transformed into rage, a wild and hungry fire that burned within me. This is hard for me. Had she ever considered that it was hard for me too? Equally, if not more? I was the one who'd found his body. I was the one who'd found him dead. Lydia had hardly spoken to me after Colton disappeared, and now she wanted to have a huge heart-to-heart about his passing?

"Hard for you? It's a tragedy for you. It's traumatizing for me. I still have nightmares about finding his body in the lake. You can't complain to me that it's hard for you."

Lydia's heartbroken face made me instantly feel guilty for my outburst. The three of us used to hang out all the time. At first, it had felt like I was constantly intruding on their relationship. But Colton and Lydia were not only the best duo, they were also great individually. They were my best friends.