XXXII. The Beauty of Family

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Alas! Here is the new chapter. Hope you guys enjoy this, I think you will ;)

Thanks again for the support and May the Force be with you, padawans. <3

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Stubborn Hearts:

XXXII:    The Beauty of Family

HELENA

Funerals.

I never really liked them especially when everyone gives their condolences to you and that sympathy in their eyes are only meant for you. Funerals bring depressing atmospheres in which it smothers me to the point of leaving to get away from the sadness but I couldn’t. As much as I wanted to run away to my house and into my room to lock the outside world from ever hurting me, I stayed planted there, staring emotionless at the casket where my brother was placed in. 

I denied the request to have an open casket meeting, not wanting to torture myself that my brother was dead and remind myself that I was the one who decided this. What if the gang whispered amongst each other that I was no leader because I couldn’t wait longer for Brandon to wake up? What if Brandon could have woken up and I ruined that possibility for him to see the world once again?

I clenched my jaw and stuffed my hands into the pockets of my jacket as the priest continued to give a prayer before rapping it up. I peered at the people that came to Brandon’s funeral, my heart clenching in seeing my gang here for him. It wasn’t the only funeral all of us had gone to nor was it the last. I knew everyone were still upset after I informed them that Ella died and Sam’s distress as a few Guerrillas tried to take Ella away from her in order to send her to the mortuary along with the police who reported to the scene after witnesses reported the murder.

With interrogations and funeral arrangements, I was drained from all the sadness and pain that happened throughout my life. Though, this was my life. I was seventeen years old and leading a gang. Once I hit eighteen, I order the Eagle and his men to step down from their ranks for me to take the title as Head Phantom and have a new council of men to advise me while I chose the next Head of the Phantoms. There would be a lot more on my plate but it was my decision. 

I wasn’t planning to go to college nor have a career when my life was devoted to this gang. 

“…May his soul rest with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen,” the priest finished and a chorus of amens followed.

“Miss Davis, would you like to leave a token for your brother?”

I looked up at the priest, feeling hundred pairs of eyes on me, burning my skin as I looked down at the casket. An image soon filtered my mind of me throwing myself onto the casket, forbidding God or anyone to take Brandon away from me. I had no family left and I couldn’t fathom on feeling that void of loneliness once again. I was drowned in that loneliness and it was difficult to live through that.

I wanted to feel whole again.

I wanted…to be my old self.

But I couldn’t.

As I stared at each face that came to Brandon’s funeral, I knew that I could never be the old Helena who lived life with no care and held no responsibilities resting on her frail shoulders. 

Because I had a family who depended on my decisions to keep them safe and keep the legacy of the Davis’s name and the Phantom’s name growing. 

Stubborn Hearts(girlxgirl)Waar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu