Phase Seven, Challenge 18 - Inspirational Quotes
Title: Ashes to Ashes
Word Count: 442
Bonus?: Yes
Quote(s) used: "The best thing to hold onto in life is each other." - Audrey Hepburn / "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference." - Robert Frost
Rating: PG
Original/Fandom: Original
Pairings (if any): N/A
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): Talk about death/cancer
Summary: Growing up isn't supposed to feel like this.
Angela sat in the back row, left corner pew, curled into the armrest of the hard oak seat. There was a seat reserved for her up front, next to her former best friend, Mallory, and Emma’s parents. The church was overwhelmingly full - teachers, classmates, friends, family - Angela knew she would be able to hide.
“How do you know the deceased?”
Angela stopped staring at the back of Mallory’s head to answer the woman to her left.
“I’m sorry?” Angela said.
“I said, how do you know the deceased?” The woman was old and her voice sounded charred, like she smoked twelve packs a day. Her silver hair was perfectly curled and her bright pink lipstick matched her dress and jacket.
“We went to school together,” Angela said.
Emma had gotten sick when they were 16. She went into remission their senior year, but instead of leaving for college last fall like Angela, she’d been readmitted to the hospital after discovering a conspicuous bruise along her spine. Emma had visited a handful of times during school.
College had allowed her to grow without the weight of her two best friends, and now she was ashamed to include herself at the front of the church, where everyone could watch her mourn, even after Emma’s passing.
“She have any siblings?”
“No,” Angela said.
“Good. I lost my sister at this age. I’m still not done grieving.” The woman said it so matter-of-fact that Angela’s eyes snapped back to Mallory’s head. She had been calling herself Emma’s sister since learned what the word meant. Mallory had always visibly cringed when she heard it.
Mallory was the stoic one, the one who helped give Emma sponge baths on the weekends and braided her hair and watched endless hours of LOST. Mallory was the one Emma’s parents sent flowers to and Angela was the one relegated to tight smiles on weekends she was able to come home and a very awkward Thanksgiving dinner in the lounge of Emma’s hospital. Their roles had inadvertently reversed and now all Angela had were her memories of Emma from before she had any memories and the guilt that she’d let her best friend die without a proper goodbye.
Angela pulled her black sweater closer, doing all she could to shrink into herself and disappear, as the pastor approached the front of the church.
“I can’t imagine what that must be like. I’m so sorry,” Angela said to the lady. The woman reached over and patted Angela’s shoulder.
“She just made some bad choices, sweetie. That’s all. I was left to deal with the consequences.”
Angela shivered under the woman’s touch.
Word Count: 442
Bonus?: Yes
Quote(s) used: "The best thing to hold onto in life is each other." - Audrey Hepburn / "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference." - Robert Frost
Rating: PG
Original/Fandom: Original
Pairings (if any): N/A
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): Talk about death/cancer
Summary: Growing up isn't supposed to feel like this.
Angela sat in the back row, left corner pew, curled into the armrest of the hard oak seat. There was a seat reserved for her up front, next to her former best friend, Mallory, and Emma’s parents. The church was overwhelmingly full - teachers, classmates, friends, family - Angela knew she would be able to hide.
“How do you know the deceased?”
Angela stopped staring at the back of Mallory’s head to answer the woman to her left.
“I’m sorry?” Angela said.
“I said, how do you know the deceased?” The woman was old and her voice sounded charred, like she smoked twelve packs a day. Her silver hair was perfectly curled and her bright pink lipstick matched her dress and jacket.
“We went to school together,” Angela said.
Emma had gotten sick when they were 16. She went into remission their senior year, but instead of leaving for college last fall like Angela, she’d been readmitted to the hospital after discovering a conspicuous bruise along her spine. Emma had visited a handful of times during school.
College had allowed her to grow without the weight of her two best friends, and now she was ashamed to include herself at the front of the church, where everyone could watch her mourn, even after Emma’s passing.
“She have any siblings?”
“No,” Angela said.
“Good. I lost my sister at this age. I’m still not done grieving.” The woman said it so matter-of-fact that Angela’s eyes snapped back to Mallory’s head. She had been calling herself Emma’s sister since learned what the word meant. Mallory had always visibly cringed when she heard it.
Mallory was the stoic one, the one who helped give Emma sponge baths on the weekends and braided her hair and watched endless hours of LOST. Mallory was the one Emma’s parents sent flowers to and Angela was the one relegated to tight smiles on weekends she was able to come home and a very awkward Thanksgiving dinner in the lounge of Emma’s hospital. Their roles had inadvertently reversed and now all Angela had were her memories of Emma from before she had any memories and the guilt that she’d let her best friend die without a proper goodbye.
Angela pulled her black sweater closer, doing all she could to shrink into herself and disappear, as the pastor approached the front of the church.
“I can’t imagine what that must be like. I’m so sorry,” Angela said to the lady. The woman reached over and patted Angela’s shoulder.
“She just made some bad choices, sweetie. That’s all. I was left to deal with the consequences.”
Angela shivered under the woman’s touch.