The Haunted_Edit Copy 4-7-17

No one in the whole room, aside from LHPR, understood
what had happened. They never would. We didn’t want to deface
his memory with ideas of monsters and possession. Plus, they
wouldn’t have believed us, anyway.
I’d never had to bury anyone before. Watching dirt pour over
the closed casket, covering up any last hopes of seeing him again
forever, was almost too much. Mr. Hamilton broke down and wept
on his wife’s shoulder. I took Gunner’s hand and felt it shaking
along with mine.
Once the ceremony was over, people broke into little groups
to reminisce more about the late Tucker Hamilton. A few people
were starting to laugh at happy memories. Some of them were still
crying. I just wanted to step away for a minute. It was kind of hard
to breathe in the cemetery.
Gunner stuck with Ethan, who was talking with Tucker’s
aunt. I wove through a few headstones to stand apart from everyone
else. My shoulders felt incredibly heavy, and they sagged with the
weight as I read the inscription on Martha Giordano’s grave. Ever a
mother, ever a saint.
“I think what they put on Tucker’s was better.” The voice
startled me, and I turned around to find Jamie standing with his
hands awkwardly in the pockets of his suit. He smiled shyly, like he
wasn’t sure if it was okay. “‘Life is not forever, love is.’”
I offered the biggest smile I could muster in return, which
was admittedly pretty pathetic, but I tried. “Yeah. Me, too.”
“Are you holding up okay?” he asked.
I shrugged one shoulder. “I guess. I mean, as okay as I can
be, you know? It’s not exactly a birthday party with clowns and
balloon animals.”
He winced. Okay, note to self. Humor: not really appropriate
at funerals. “I just wanted to tell you that if you ever need anything,
you can call me. Anytime, okay? I, uh ... I lost my dad last year. So
I sort of get what this is like.”
His words reached my heart, even where I had buried it deep
in my chest. “Thank you.” This time my smile was real.
196