I've moved back in with my parents. Nobody's asked me what's been going on the latter half of my life; they know I'm not ready. I've got a job in the coffee shop, pouring coffee while another employee talks to the customers. Mom says it'll take some time before I can function with people again. And that I can take all the time I need.
Craig had been keeping contact with everyone somehow. Lizzie and Kenny worked in the same electronics store as he did. I wasn't sure how he had managed to maintain friendships behind my back, but nearly everyone from high school had come to the funeral, despite the general scattering across the state that had ensued after graduation. Aside from offering polite condolences at the funeral, no one had really spoken to me. I wouldn't have spoken to me either; after coming back into society, I realized I looked like a ghost. Also there's that whole thing about me killing Clyde.
Mom and Dad had left at my request; it wasn't a long walk home. The last corner of his coffin was submerged beneath a shovel of dirt.
I felt suspended without him to hold me down.
Where was I supposed to go?
I turned over my shoulder; down the shallow hill, a small crowd had congregated around the parked cars. I thought everyone had left. Upon further inspection, I realized it was the old crowd. They chatted amongst each other, some looking solemn, some laughing, all looking so…the same.
Stan had been the one to call. "We were all gonna meet up at Ihop; you wanna come?"
I hesitated, cleared my throat, trying not to panic. "S-sure!" I finally managed to call back.
"C'mon, we'll give you a ride."
I took three steps toward the crowd; gave a look back at the grave oer my shoulder.
I needed to say something. More like a million things; but I didn't have the time. I had to move on.
As quickly as I could, I walked the rest of the way down the hill, climbed into the back of Stan's Focus, and let myself be carried away.
A/N: Omigod. I…I can't believe it's over. Oo My perception of the characters has changed as I've developed them more in my head…so there's gonna be some characterization problems…I changed tenses like eight millions times…I'm sure it was terrible in some places…but…it's my baby, y'know? My retarded baby. :C Whelp…tell me what you think. Oh! And this story's song is Smells Like Teen Spirit.