Say Something
Chapter 1
Beatrice’s point of view
Mom’s practiced fingers carefully zipped up the black corset dress, she turned my face and her dark blue eyes met my brown ones, “It’s okay?” I nodded numbly, without acknowledging the question.
I pushed the door open, and walked down the staircase, my hands were balled tightly and I pressed my fingernails into them, trying to feel something, anything at all. The numbness was getting painful. I pushed my bangs out of my eyes and tried not to look at the flowers that covered the front yard.
Carefully, I made my way out of the house. I could see people’s mouth moving, perhaps providing condolences, but I didn’t hear a thing. There was only one voice that replayed in my mind, the last words he had uttered, “I love you, kiddo.”
Mom and Scarlett stepped out of the house soon after, I felt Lottie’s hand gripping mine. Mom gracefully moved among the guests offering sad smiles and accepting hugs from people who didn’t even know him.
They only knew him as the rich lawyer who moved from The States, not the wonderful man he was. My idol and my hero. They didn’t know how he lulled me sleep when I got scared because of thunder or how he called back when he forgot to say ‘I love you’ the first time. They didn’t know how his eyes twinkled when he called me his daughter in front of thousands of people. They didn’t know and they never would.
I walked down two blocks to the church, mom had asked me to get in the car but I couldn’t, I doubted if I ever would be able to sit in a car, again, leave alone drive one.
I clenched my fists tightly, trying to control the anger that coursed through me as the priest spoke about him, being a kind and good man, as if he had actually known how kind and good of a man my father was. “Tee?” Lottie’s voice was small, as she looked up at me with wide blue eyes. I closed my eyes trying to block out the voices of people sitting around me, whispering things I didn’t want to hear.
I stood up, ignoring the stares and walked out of the small church, “You didn't know my dad, so don’t pretend like you did.” With the words spoken I walked to the cemetery winding my way around the tombstone until I found the one I was looking for.
R.I.P
Brian Gray
A loving father and husband.
I crossed my legs and rested my head against the stone. I didn’t have to speak, I knew dad wouldn’t mind. I remembered sitting with him for hours without saying words because they weren’t required. He hadn’t been much of a talker anyway, in that way I am like him. When I think about it, I am like him in almost everything I have a short-temper, I can throw tantrums like a three-year old, I hate when people lie, I know how to keep my feelings to myself, I hate saying sorry, even when I know I’m wrong. I am one of the most difficult people to love.
I don’t let people in, and they give up knowing that I’m lost cause. Everybody except the curly-headed boy who stepped out from behind the trees. His green eyes found mine and with quick steps, he headed towards me. I turned my face away, not wanting his sympathy. Or anyone’s for that matter. “Tris?”
I pursed my lips but didn’t look at him. Didn’t look into those enticing green eyes that made me crave for something, I knew didn’t exist. Love.
His fingers grabbed my chin and he forced my face towards his. “Julia’s been worried sick.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed his hand away, I brought my knees closer to me and tucked them under my chin. Mom wasn’t worried, she was too busy shaking hands with guests. “Go away, Harry.”
“C’mon,” he stood up offering his hand to me. I wrapped my arms around me knees instead and rested my head against them. “Tris.” his tone held a tone of finality. I looked at him through my eyelashes, his face was a mask of concern. I offered him my hand and let him pull me up.
I think he knew that I didn’t want solace, because he didn’t offer me a hug or any sympathetic words after I stood right beside him, infact he dropped my hand too. Which I was thankful for. “I don’t want to go home,” I said quietly.
“I know,” he replied, I looked up at him. “I know what we’re gonna do. Do you trust me?” he asked holding out a strip of cloth to cover my eyes, I supposed.
“No.”
He chuckled, but tied the cloth over my eyes anyway. His hand rested on the small of my back and a shiver ran down my spine. I sighed bitterly. His other hand grabbed mine and he led me to god know’s where.
“Stand here,” he whispered, before leaving me alone in the cool summer evening. I crossed my hands over my chest and listened to the honks of the car, the barking of a dog, the laughing of children. I listened to the way the world carried on even after one of the most important things in my life was gone.
Harry’s familiar hand grabbed mine again, and he helped me sit. “This might hurt.” I rolled my eyes even though they were covered. If it hurt, at least I would feel something other than the gaping hole in my heart and the numbness it spread through my entire body.
I heard a click and then the something like drill. I shrieked and pulled my hand away from Harry’s, “I’m not getting a tattoo!”
“Just trust me,” he sighed and held the cloth tight over my eyes, so any attempt to untie it was futile. He also knew very well, that I didn’t trust people, no matter what. “You can kill me if you don’t like it.”
“I’m not,” I said through my teeth, “getting my skin inked, without knowing what I’m putting on it, Styles.”
“C’mon Tris. You and I both know I’m not dumb. It’s nothing stupid, I promise. In fact I know for a fact that you will love it.”
I scoffed in response. He gently took my hand in his again. “Please?”
“If I don’t--”
“Kill me,” he replied without letting me finish my sentence.
With a racing heart I unclenched my fists, and let the pattern burn on my skin. I could feel a burning sensation, but the numbness in my heart was overwhelming, which overpowered any other feelings. That’s why I wanted to do anything except think. The memories were clear, and I didn’t want to relive them, because I had no one to blame then. No one except myself.
"Please, dad. Please?" I whined poking his stomach, making him toss in his sleep. He groaned and hid his face in the pillows. "Daddy!" I cried tickling his sides, although I knew I wouldn't get a reaction.
"Lemme sleep, pumpkin." He muttered. covering his face with the blankets. "After I wake up."
"Please, please dad! They'll run out of copies then." I begged. Dad sighed in annoyance before getting up. I pecked his cheek, "I love you!" I yelled over my shoulder, before running down the stairs, and grabbed my wallet.
We drove to the book store singing obnoxiously loud with a song playing on the radio. I don't remember when the truck came in view, or how dad tried to swerve past it, I don't remember the instructions that he yelled. I just remember him lunging towards me and whispering an 'I love you kiddo.' before blackness greeted me.
I didn't understand what happened that day for a long time, but later I did, and now I wish I hadn't. Dad had jumped on top of me to save me from the worst part of the hit. He took the bullet for me like he always promised he would. He gave away his life to save mine, and I wish he hadn't. Dad was my hero.
Even though Lottie had been the younger one, I had been daddy's girl. I loved washing the car with him on Sundays, or going running with him in the morning. I loved to cook with him on Saturday mornings, or listen to Elvis while doing crazy dance moves. I didn't want to live without my dad, and I knew I was selfish to wish I was taken away instead, because I knew dad couldn't live without me either.
Harry’s fingers untangled the knot from the back of my head, and the cloth fell across my shoulders. I blinked a few times to clear the blurry vision to look at the inked design placed on the left side of my wrist, on my left hand. A surprised gasp escaped my lips when I read the three simple words that brought tears to my eyes for the first time, since dad passed away. I ran a finger over them, Harry was right, I knew for a fact that I loved it.
Harry was kind enough to not ask any questions, otherwise I knew I would break down. He walked me back to my house, and left me at the porch without saying a word. I ignored the flowers scattered on around the house again and went to my room, ignoring mom’s enraged cries about me leaving the funeral that way.
I changed out of the black dress and crawled under the covers, I picked up the picture of dad and I, from my bedside table. “I love you, daddy. And I’ll always be you little girl.”
I traced the pattern, on my wrist, I had been tracing for the past hour. Daddy’s lil girl.
Mom’s practiced fingers carefully zipped up the black corset dress, she turned my face and her dark blue eyes met my brown ones, “It’s okay?” I nodded numbly, without acknowledging the question.
I pushed the door open, and walked down the staircase, my hands were balled tightly and I pressed my fingernails into them, trying to feel something, anything at all. The numbness was getting painful. I pushed my bangs out of my eyes and tried not to look at the flowers that covered the front yard.
Carefully, I made my way out of the house. I could see people’s mouth moving, perhaps providing condolences, but I didn’t hear a thing. There was only one voice that replayed in my mind, the last words he had uttered, “I love you, kiddo.”
Mom and Scarlett stepped out of the house soon after, I felt Lottie’s hand gripping mine. Mom gracefully moved among the guests offering sad smiles and accepting hugs from people who didn’t even know him.
They only knew him as the rich lawyer who moved from The States, not the wonderful man he was. My idol and my hero. They didn’t know how he lulled me sleep when I got scared because of thunder or how he called back when he forgot to say ‘I love you’ the first time. They didn’t know how his eyes twinkled when he called me his daughter in front of thousands of people. They didn’t know and they never would.
I walked down two blocks to the church, mom had asked me to get in the car but I couldn’t, I doubted if I ever would be able to sit in a car, again, leave alone drive one.
I clenched my fists tightly, trying to control the anger that coursed through me as the priest spoke about him, being a kind and good man, as if he had actually known how kind and good of a man my father was. “Tee?” Lottie’s voice was small, as she looked up at me with wide blue eyes. I closed my eyes trying to block out the voices of people sitting around me, whispering things I didn’t want to hear.
I stood up, ignoring the stares and walked out of the small church, “You didn't know my dad, so don’t pretend like you did.” With the words spoken I walked to the cemetery winding my way around the tombstone until I found the one I was looking for.
R.I.P
Brian Gray
A loving father and husband.
I crossed my legs and rested my head against the stone. I didn’t have to speak, I knew dad wouldn’t mind. I remembered sitting with him for hours without saying words because they weren’t required. He hadn’t been much of a talker anyway, in that way I am like him. When I think about it, I am like him in almost everything I have a short-temper, I can throw tantrums like a three-year old, I hate when people lie, I know how to keep my feelings to myself, I hate saying sorry, even when I know I’m wrong. I am one of the most difficult people to love.
I don’t let people in, and they give up knowing that I’m lost cause. Everybody except the curly-headed boy who stepped out from behind the trees. His green eyes found mine and with quick steps, he headed towards me. I turned my face away, not wanting his sympathy. Or anyone’s for that matter. “Tris?”
I pursed my lips but didn’t look at him. Didn’t look into those enticing green eyes that made me crave for something, I knew didn’t exist. Love.
His fingers grabbed my chin and he forced my face towards his. “Julia’s been worried sick.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed his hand away, I brought my knees closer to me and tucked them under my chin. Mom wasn’t worried, she was too busy shaking hands with guests. “Go away, Harry.”
“C’mon,” he stood up offering his hand to me. I wrapped my arms around me knees instead and rested my head against them. “Tris.” his tone held a tone of finality. I looked at him through my eyelashes, his face was a mask of concern. I offered him my hand and let him pull me up.
I think he knew that I didn’t want solace, because he didn’t offer me a hug or any sympathetic words after I stood right beside him, infact he dropped my hand too. Which I was thankful for. “I don’t want to go home,” I said quietly.
“I know,” he replied, I looked up at him. “I know what we’re gonna do. Do you trust me?” he asked holding out a strip of cloth to cover my eyes, I supposed.
“No.”
He chuckled, but tied the cloth over my eyes anyway. His hand rested on the small of my back and a shiver ran down my spine. I sighed bitterly. His other hand grabbed mine and he led me to god know’s where.
“Stand here,” he whispered, before leaving me alone in the cool summer evening. I crossed my hands over my chest and listened to the honks of the car, the barking of a dog, the laughing of children. I listened to the way the world carried on even after one of the most important things in my life was gone.
Harry’s familiar hand grabbed mine again, and he helped me sit. “This might hurt.” I rolled my eyes even though they were covered. If it hurt, at least I would feel something other than the gaping hole in my heart and the numbness it spread through my entire body.
I heard a click and then the something like drill. I shrieked and pulled my hand away from Harry’s, “I’m not getting a tattoo!”
“Just trust me,” he sighed and held the cloth tight over my eyes, so any attempt to untie it was futile. He also knew very well, that I didn’t trust people, no matter what. “You can kill me if you don’t like it.”
“I’m not,” I said through my teeth, “getting my skin inked, without knowing what I’m putting on it, Styles.”
“C’mon Tris. You and I both know I’m not dumb. It’s nothing stupid, I promise. In fact I know for a fact that you will love it.”
I scoffed in response. He gently took my hand in his again. “Please?”
“If I don’t--”
“Kill me,” he replied without letting me finish my sentence.
With a racing heart I unclenched my fists, and let the pattern burn on my skin. I could feel a burning sensation, but the numbness in my heart was overwhelming, which overpowered any other feelings. That’s why I wanted to do anything except think. The memories were clear, and I didn’t want to relive them, because I had no one to blame then. No one except myself.
"Please, dad. Please?" I whined poking his stomach, making him toss in his sleep. He groaned and hid his face in the pillows. "Daddy!" I cried tickling his sides, although I knew I wouldn't get a reaction.
"Lemme sleep, pumpkin." He muttered. covering his face with the blankets. "After I wake up."
"Please, please dad! They'll run out of copies then." I begged. Dad sighed in annoyance before getting up. I pecked his cheek, "I love you!" I yelled over my shoulder, before running down the stairs, and grabbed my wallet.
We drove to the book store singing obnoxiously loud with a song playing on the radio. I don't remember when the truck came in view, or how dad tried to swerve past it, I don't remember the instructions that he yelled. I just remember him lunging towards me and whispering an 'I love you kiddo.' before blackness greeted me.
I didn't understand what happened that day for a long time, but later I did, and now I wish I hadn't. Dad had jumped on top of me to save me from the worst part of the hit. He took the bullet for me like he always promised he would. He gave away his life to save mine, and I wish he hadn't. Dad was my hero.
Even though Lottie had been the younger one, I had been daddy's girl. I loved washing the car with him on Sundays, or going running with him in the morning. I loved to cook with him on Saturday mornings, or listen to Elvis while doing crazy dance moves. I didn't want to live without my dad, and I knew I was selfish to wish I was taken away instead, because I knew dad couldn't live without me either.
Harry’s fingers untangled the knot from the back of my head, and the cloth fell across my shoulders. I blinked a few times to clear the blurry vision to look at the inked design placed on the left side of my wrist, on my left hand. A surprised gasp escaped my lips when I read the three simple words that brought tears to my eyes for the first time, since dad passed away. I ran a finger over them, Harry was right, I knew for a fact that I loved it.
Harry was kind enough to not ask any questions, otherwise I knew I would break down. He walked me back to my house, and left me at the porch without saying a word. I ignored the flowers scattered on around the house again and went to my room, ignoring mom’s enraged cries about me leaving the funeral that way.
I changed out of the black dress and crawled under the covers, I picked up the picture of dad and I, from my bedside table. “I love you, daddy. And I’ll always be you little girl.”
I traced the pattern, on my wrist, I had been tracing for the past hour. Daddy’s lil girl.
Notes
Whoop, whoop! I finally updated. Thank you for your wonderful comments and I definitely am expecting more of them so please leave me your gracious comments, okay? Don't forget to vote and subscribe either. I have a day off today since it's really cold. So y'all might get an update on Sad, Beautiful, Tragic, if any of you read that story too. Lemme know how y'all like the chapter, okay?
*You can imagine Tris's dress but this is what I thought it would look like--polyvore.
Once again, imagine however you want the tattoo to be but here's what I think--tattoo.*
Luv y'all and Stay Beautiful
xxx
ask.fm :)
This story is amaxing
10/4/14