Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
I was too scared to go up there, too.
The pastor did a speech, and some people shared stories about Mr. Sinclair. There was music, and after the service, they moved the casket to a car. Gabriel and his mother had to walk behind the casket, and I thought that was kind of evil to make them do. I thought at any second they both would’ve fallen down from being so heartbroken.
At one point, Gabriel looked over to me, and his eyes were so red and flooded with tears that I started to weep, too. I didn’t know why, but over the past week, whenever I saw Gabriel cry, I’d start crying. It was like his tears sparked something in me that made my chest hurt so much that I was forced to cry, too. Before that, I didn’t know my tears could match another’s.
At the end of the burial, everyone tossed a rose on top of the casket, and they lowered it into the ground.
“No, no, no,” Mrs. Sinclair wailed as that happened. She dropped to her knees and reached out for her husband, and it broke my heart that Mr. Sinclair wasn’t there to reach back out toward her.
I didn’t understand death. How could it be so cruel?
Gabriel stepped up and took her hand, though.
“It’s okay, Mom. It’s okay,” he told her, even though I wasn’t sure he believed that himself. How could he believe that it was okay? He no longer had a dad. But still, he tried his best to make sure his mom was all right.
Maybe that was when I started to hate him a little less.
Maybe that was when I started to wonder who was making sure he was all right if he was in charge of making sure his mom was all right.
I didn’t mean anything against Mrs. Sinclair when I thought that, but it seemed she was hardly able to keep herself together, let alone her son who was being forced to grow up a lot faster than he should’ve been. I had a feeling Mrs. Sinclair would never be the same after that. Maybe that’s what death did to the people who were still stuck being alive—changed them forever. I didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing.
***
Gabriel
“Gabriel Sinclair! Get back in here. And you will stop slamming these doors, young man. Do you understand me?” Mom yelled as she followed me out to the backyard. I didn’t say another word to her. I was sick of it all. I was sick of her telling me to do my homework. I was sick of her trying to do the stuff with me that Dad always did. I was sick of her asking if I wanted to play catch with her. I was sick of it all! I was mostly sick of Dad being dead, though.
How could he do that?
How could he die?
I hated him for that! I hated him so much that it made me want to explode.
I glanced to my left and saw Kierra sitting in her backyard on her tire swing, and for some reason, that made me mad, too. I hated how she looked at me lately. As if she felt bad for me. I much preferred it when she was busy calling me a toad. I didn’t want her to feel bad for me. I didn’t want her to feel anything for me because I hated her. I hated how she had two parents. It wasn’t fair. Nothing was fair anymore.
I shot her a dirty look before stomping my feet to my tree house. The tree house that Dad had built for me. I climbed the ladder and ignored Mom the whole way up. When I reached the tree house, I felt as if I was going to cry. Or shout. Or shout and cry. I felt so much and I didn’t know what any of it meant, which made me even angrier.
When I heard someone climbing the ladder, I was certain it was Mom coming to tell me to head back inside and finish my homework. But instead there was Kierra and her stupid face storming into my space.
“You can’t be mean to her!” Kierra yelled at me as she stepped into the tree house. “You can’t talk to your mom like that!”
“It’s none of your business,” I said as my chest rose and fell.
“You’re making her really sad, Gabriel. You need to knock it off now.”
“Who are you to tell me what to do?” I grumbled, annoyed with her stupid face that for some reason made my stomach feel weird whenever she looked at me. I kicked the baseball on the floor across the tree house because I was so annoyed. The baseball wasn’t even supposed to be in the tree house. It was supposed to be in Dad’s glove in the backyard, so we could play catch together.