Revenge On Eleanor Calder (Coming back this Winter)

Louis' P.O.V

No matter what I will not cry. Not today at least for I have lost too many tears because, of this tragedy. I wish I would have been the one to die instead of Eleanor. She was so pure, so innocent, and warm. . . I don't understand why she had to pass away. I sit down on the bench behind me inhaling deeply watching the world surrounding me. The bees don't seem to bother me or the beautiful flowers at all. Instead they are floating around in one bubble like form making small buzzing noises. I chuckle lightly shaking my eyes and turning me head to the water fountain on my left which is not quit far away. No water is coming from it which makes the place even quieter. This is a nice garden for the dead actually. Got your roses, lilies, delilahs, tulips, and whatever those purple things are along with some benches, and a water fountain here in the center. Pretty decent. Hopefully the lads and I can manage to even get the tiles in places tomorrow.

Speaking of gardens I wonder how Anna is doing. We never talked after we had part our ways, but I mean I would understand why. She wouldn't want a grieving guy to get in her way of recovery in any way, and I wouldn't want to either. I hope she is well and finds her way though. Who knows maybe we'll meet again. Yet I highly doubt it.

The soft noises behind causes me to look behind seeing mass crowds of others dressed in black walking in the garden house.

I inhale sharply, "And so it begins," I say to myself turning back around.

I put my hands in my pockets swallowing harder by the minute. Never will I be able to let Eleanor go no matter who says what or does shit. I hear the sounds of high heels click-clacking closer towards me. Before I know it I feel a cold shadow over me shutting off the warm sunlight from over my head. I look up seeing my mother staring at me with a blank face.

"You're not ready aren't you," she says whilst sitting down beside me.

"No not really," I reply giving her a small smile.

"I understand Louis. I know you're may think I don't, but I do," my mum explains turning her body towards me before resuming, " when I heard that you were gone. . .after the terrible accident. I had no idea what I was to do with myself without you. In fact I just couldn't accept the fact that you were gone. But thank God you did have a miracle coming back to us." she says getting tears in her eyes.

"It's not the same. Not at all," I say to her looking away from her sorrow.

"I know it was different. But I still felt as lost as you are," she says.

"I don't want to say goodbye. I'm not ready. . .I wasn't ready, and then some bastard comes and takes her away from me!" I say through my teeth.

It's true why did someone kill Eleanor? She was mine. No one else. Was it for greed? Jealousy?Torture? Fun? Or even revenge which I doubt. My mother sighs moving closer to me wrapping her arms around me for comfort. I close my eyes and bury my head into her shoulder for more than that.

"Today is not the day to be anger Louis. At least try not to, think of it the other way. What if Eleanor lost you. . .you would want her to manage even without you despite how hard it was," my mother says rocking my like a child.

I don't want to. I want to remain like this in this position for the rest of my life until I see Eleanor again. But refusing won't help instead it will just make me look like a depressed and stubborn fool. I'll just need to brush past this now, and think about it later.

"Okay," I say with no emotion keeping my eyes close.

I pull away from my mother staying at her swollen looking face. She looks like she has been crying as well. Yet I can not tell if my eyes are deceiving me.

I swallow hard, "Mum," I speak again in a low tone.

"Yes Louis," she answers.

"Remember when I had that car accident. . ." I say to her.

She nods slowly unsure of where this conversation is to head.

"I-I saw Eleanor and she told me that she missed me. And we spent time together, and God mom it was the best feeling I had ever felt in my life." I say looking up at the clear blue sky, "she was so beautiful. . .so pure. We were both happy." I continue.

I wish I could go back. There is nothing more I need, but Eleanor. But she's not here. . .she's gone. I stay in place staring at the sky in awe watching red robins fly around and the clouds move swiftly with the wind. My right leg moves in an up and down movement against the pavement below my feet due to nervousness.

"But then she told me to come back. To come back here and leave her, but I said no. I said I want to be with you Eleanor." I swallow, " Before I knew we were drawing further apart by distance and she was gone." I say letting out a breath.

"Has it ever occurred to you that Eleanor does want you to be here Lou?" she questions me.

"I don't know mother. But please do me a favor?" I question her rising from my seat.

She rises with me standing up and grabbing her phone from the bench. I know it's time I go and say goodbye. There is no more time.

"Sure sweetie, what is that?"

"Please don't put words into my dead girlfriend's mouth," I reply with no expression.

She inhales deeply looking down and walks off in front of me entering the garden house. I am now left alone a couple minutes to wait before the burial of my girlfriend. My hand is placed in my pocket fiddling with engagement ring that no longer has a purpose. I have to do this Louis. . .it's simply for the better. I can not hold on forever. I must accept it. I turn on my heels heading for the entrance until something catches my eyes.

I come to a halt immediately watching. My heart pounds even harder as the trunk of the slick black car is opened having some men follow a leader to the back. My throat becomes instantly dry, and cold sweat drips upon my back causing me to shiver involuntarily. The warm breeze messes up my hair covering my eyes a bit, yet I don't dare more. The chatter of people inside of the small building becomes an echo and everything around me is a blur in slow motion. I drop the engagement ring in my pocket only to retrieve it to hold it even tighter making my knuckles white. My balance is shaky as I stand in place watching the men in jet black suits and sunglasses all use their strength to lift up a sparkling white casket.

There she is. There's my girl, dead, in that casket. And weather I like it or not. . .it's finally time I let go.

Notes