𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑-𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓、 TICCI TOBY.

𝜗𝜚.𝟎𝟐

  Ｑuiet sobs came from Kayla as she had her face buried into the scarf wrapped around her sister's neck. On the other side, Joseph hung onto Cleo's hand as he grimly looked on. The mother of the three dabbed away at the tears falling away from her face while the eldest child stood stiffly, not a single muscle moving as she watched the casket containing her father's corpse slowly descend into the ground below.

She wasn't really thinking of much other than the grim emptiness that was stabbing at her heart, every word that left the officiant's mouth sounded like nothing but white noise, she felt her whole world beginning to collapse and wasn't even aware the service had ended until Joseph tugged at her sleeve.

Cleo tiredly blinked a few times, shaking her head as she eyed down at the teary boy.

"It's time to go home sissy." He softly told her, pointing at their mother who had been trudging along slowly to the beat up car, the other little one by her side.

Cleo chewed on her bottom lip, nodding slowly as she followed them. She needed to get her head screwed back on, but her father's death was sudden, and the details didn't make her feel any better either.

Picture this. . .

A man is finally headed on his way to work after he does the necessary precautions to ensure the safety and comfort of his wife and kids. The children are tucked soundlessly into their respective beds and his wife is cozily sat on the couch after doing his daily routine of making sure there wasn't any sort of substance for her to take advantage of, including the wine.

His eldest is still on campus grounds probably off with one of her study groups which means all he has to do is give her a call to make sure she's alright all the while leaving the house and settling into his own car.

It's a-bit chilly out and he has no clue of the situated eyes that have been studying him for the past month or so ever since his first sighting of his daughter. There's something nagging at him but he just can't quite put his finger on why.

Still the usual chipper man he is, he smoothly exits the lot of his home and drives well into the night, a direct path for the beginning part of it, and he doesn't usually have to slow down.

He's on the phone—conversing with his daughter—driving his usual speed of course and it isn't 'til he starts to reach the train tracks that he's well aware he must begin to yield as the big, bright lights, flashing red signaled to him there was a train quickly approaching.

Mr.Aikawa's palms are growing sweaty, nervously speaking on the line, as his daughter vocalizes sudden concern.

"Dad? Dad you okay?"

His heart is thumping at his chest as he's attempting to press on the breaks, but it's to his mortified realization that the breaks do not work. They did not work.

Mr.Aikawa gives a soft, "I love you Cleo."

Shortly followed by the train's loud, screaming whistle as mere seconds passed before the phone completely cut.

On the other side, Cleo hears the muffled voices of her classmates surround her as they all jumbled together in guttural nonsense. the teen backed into a shelf of books, knocking them over as faces hurriedly crowded her. Her body started to tremble while her muscles began to ache, and her chest was caving in itself and back out in quick rapid short breathy bursts as her lungs felt like they were on fire.