Zahara
1 Week Later….
I join hands with Asia, and Mrs. Cook as the pastor ends the funeral off with a prayer. Rebekah was gone to soon, and in everyone’s testimony they all mentioned that. But of course the pastor says God has called for her to come home, and it was her time. But it’s hard for loved ones to accept that, no matter what we believe in. And thinking back to the day I went to see Rebekah, I wondered why she chose to commit suicide. Did I say something that triggered that lever in her, did my candid attitude allow her to realize that maybe jail is not where she wants to be, what can possibly be the reason she felt the need to take her own life. Life is too precious to just let it slip away like that, especially under those circumstances. No matter what your situation is, there should be no reason as to why you feel the need to take your life. There are hundreds of people dying every day; and half of them aren't aware that their death is right around the corner.
I never thought in a million years that me, and Rebekah’s journey would end this way. Me crying just a few seats away from her pale body, while she’s lying there without that glow, without that movement in her chest, without that blink of her eyelids, and without the beat of her heart. It’s really heartbreaking, and hardly bearable, but once it’s over I must move on to continue to heal from the loss of someone that was very special to me.
Later that evening, I stood a few feet away as Rebekah’s casket is lowered into the ground. Her mother sobs loudly overpowering the sniffles, and light sobs from other loved ones behind, and beside her. Asia holds me close rubbing my arm, as I stare at the casket being lowered, lower, and lower into the ground. It pained my heart realizing that I would never ever see Rebekah again, not in this life of course.
“I’m ready to go.” I whisper to Asia, and she nods as she grabs my hand, and guides me away from everyone towards her car. We walk slowly through the crowd, and I wave goodbye to the familiar faces as we reach the end of the graveyard. We walk through the parked cars, and find Asia’s car parked under a blueberry tree. We immediately get into the car, and she doesn’t start the engine right away she gets in, and decided to sit their awkwardly silent.
I look over at her with my puffy red eyes, and I shrug my shoulder. “Why haven’t you started the car?”
“You wanted to leave, so where are we going?” Asia asks resting the keys on her lap.
I rub my head as I feel a headache coming in from all of the crying I have been doing. “Home, were going home.”
After a few seconds she sticks the key in the ignition, and she cranks up the car. “Alright.” She says, and she drives through the uneven grass until she reaches the road. She then drives home which is 35 minutes away from here.
*********
Asia
A few days later…
I wake up the next morning to cook Zahara breakfast in bed which consisted of her favorite Oatmeal with strawberries, and turkey bacon chopped into small pieces with a glass of Orange juice. I made it look all nice, hoping it would put a smile on her beautiful face. I place everything on the tray, and I slowly walk upstairs to our bedroom. I push the door open with my foot, and I see she’s already awake. She’s still lying in bed with her now messy hair all over the place. She looks a little uneasy, but this breakfast will make her feel much better.
