Chapter One

Chapter One 

I laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling. I didn’t need to look at my clock to know it was late enough that I should be sleeping and earlier enough that I shouldn’t be awake, but how could I sleep right now? In a few hours, my alarm would be ringing, waking me up so I can start my day, get dressed, have some breakfast… bury my father. 

He had passed away recently from cancer. A long, hard battle for everyone in the family. So we knew it was coming at some point, but it didn’t make things easier, naturally. I broke my heart every single day to see him like that, and then one day he was just.. Gone, leaving a massive hole in the family and my heart that seemed to grow deeper and more painful every single day. 

…and what would be making an already terrible day worse was that my brother, well, step-brother Cory, would be arriving home in the morning. He was away at college at the moment. He flew back a few times over the past few months, but not as often as I knew Mum or dad would have liked. He wasn’t here every day; he wasn’t in the trenches like we were. He was meant to have arrived a few days ago, but through one reason or another, he didn’t, but he promised mum he would be here before the cars that were taking us to the church were. 

We’ll see. 

I turned over and looked at the photo on my bedside table. A family photo of the four of us from one of the holidays we had taken growing up. I closed my eyes, fresh tears dripping from my eyes, dampening the pillow under my face. 

Every memory hurts to think of. 

Every punch of pain hit so hard, it felt like I couldn’t breathe. 

My dad was gone, and I wasn’t ready for a world that he wasn’t in anymore. 

Wiping away the tears, which were pointless as they were just instantly replaced with new ones, I sat up, letting the duvet fall to my waist. I wasn't going to get to sleep any time soon… if at all. Throwing the covers off, I got out of bed and headed over to my closet. 

Shuffling through the racks of black clothes until I found the dress I had decided to wear for today. I held it up, inspecting it like I hadn’t already done that (what felt like) a million times. Checking for any loose threads, marks or imperfections. 

This was my dad's funeral! I needed to look my best for my last goodbye. The thought hit me hard. My last goodbye? 

Suddenly, my breathing deepened and started to quicken, I dropped the dress with a quiet ‘’clang’’ as the hanger it was on hit the floor, and my hands flew to my chest. I felt like I was suffocating, my breathing erratic. 

I was having a panic attack. 

Quickly, I sat down on the floor and bowed my head low, closed my eyes and tried to calm myself down. This wasn’t my first attack; I’ve been getting them more and more often, recently. The Doctor said it was normal and gave me some tips, tricks and suggestions to help me calm myself down when I get all worked up like this. 

Breath in…and out. In….and out. In… and out. 

It took a few minutes, but eventually, it worked, and I was able to relax slightly. I got up again and picked my dress up off the floor, hanging it up on the closet door and flattening out the small creases that had formed from its sudden drop to the carpet, until it was back to perfect, and I made my way over to my jewellery box on top of my dresser. 

Growing up, my dad had brought me a few pieces of jewellery that I absolutely loved, but as I got older, I didn’t wear them as much anymore. No reason other than I realised how meaningful and special they were and only wanted to wear them for certain occasions now. 

His funeral, for example. 

I pulled out my favourite necklace, a beautiful, dainty silver locket with a picture of him and my mother, my birth mother that is, that he got me for my 16th Birthday, a few bracelets and a set of earrings. Sure, they might not all match, but hell, I didn’t care. 

Setting them down on the dresser top. I sighed and walked back over to my bed, climbing in and pulling the covers up over myself. Not realising until the warmth of the duvet started to swaddle me, how cold I was. 

Snuggling down, I turned off the lamp on my bedside table and closed my eyes, finally feeling the sleep I much needed calling to me, and it wasn’t much longer until darkness overtook me… 

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCKITYKNOCK

Someone annoyingly rapping their knuckles on my bedroom door awoke me from my deep slumber. I groaned loudly but refused to open my eyes. If I didn’t, then I could maybe get back to sleep…and I really, really needed it. 

But then the knocking came again, louder and faster. 

I sighed, knowing instantly who it would be;

‘GO AWAY, CORY!’ I shouted, pulling the duvet up over my head, in a weak attempt to hide from the world. I heard my bedroom door open, clear that he hadn’t listened to my request. 

‘Well, good morning to you too. Come on, get up. Mum is making breakfast before we have to get ready’. With nothing more to say, I heard the door close again and after a few more seconds, I gave up and got up. 

Heading to my bathroom to have a shower, deciding to skip breakfast. Today was going to be sad enough already, without having to play nice with Cory’s miserable girlfriend, whom he insisted on bringing home whenever he visited…