Lauren sat at the front row, looking down as people milled around her. People whom she didn’t know cared for her sister. Most of their relatives that were there were people she hasn’t seen for years. How could they have possibly cared about Reagan?
The accident happened in a flash. One moment, Reagan and her friends were driving joyously down the highway going home for Thanksgiving. The next, their car was thrown down to the side of the road by a ten-wheeler truck. Reagan didn’t survive.
Fat tears rolled down Lauren’s cheeks, red from hours of crying. People came and went, patting her back as they went along. All the patting just made her feel more down.
Her eyelids were getting heavy from all the crying, and she was feeling drowsy. She let sleep swallow her up in a slumber, as she felt a warmth coming off beside her.
When she woke up her head was on someone’s shoulder: a young man just a little older than she was.
“You drool when you sleep,” the guy said, smirking as he did.
“Oh, sorry. Just a little too tired I guess,” Lauren replied, wiping the back of her hand over her mouth. She squinted at the boy, taking in his familiarity. Her mind was still groggy from sleep, blurring her thoughts about memories of seeing him. She looked around, nobody was there except for her and the guy.
“Where are the others?”
“Your parents went out to buy some snacks, and it’s midnight, you really wouldn’t expect anyone who doesn’t know your sister to be here milling around like a crazy person.”
She checked her phone for the time, not trusting what the boy was saying.
“Who are you, anyway?” she asked, the same time he said, “How did it all happen?”
“Her death? Well, she was away for college. She was riding home with her friends for thanksgiving, I thought it was a little bit early for her to go home, but then I also missed her, so why did I have to argue? It was a 3-hour drive, and the road was a weeny bit slippery from sleet. A truck hit them hard. They got thrown off the road. You know what I don’t get? Why did she have to die? Why her? Why?” tears flooded her face again as she rambled about the tragedy. She didn’t care about the boy’s identity at that moment, her grief overcame her once again.
“How have you been coping?”
“Bad! People are trying to pretend they care about her when they don’t even know a thing about her! Her friends haven’t visited her wake. Oh, and her boyfriend! I can’t even recall the guy’s face! They.. they had this fight before she left for Thanksgiving. Ever since that night she told me about that, she just cried over her pathetic lover who doesn’t even love her enough to visit her dead body and apologize! Now that I think about it… what if he was the reason she went home early?! I mean, if they didn’t fight, she wouldn’t have thought of going home so soon! Oh, I’m gonna find that—“
The guy stood up and went over to Reagan’s coffin. Manly tears rolled down his cheeks, his eyes staring lovingly over his girlfriend’s still face.
“I’m sorry Reagan. If you just listened to me, this wouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry… Hey, don’t haunt my family, okay?”
“Wait… What?! Who are you?” Lauren demanded.
“I’m Wade. Wade Brooks. Reagan’s boyfriend,” he said solemnly, extending a hand to a gawking Lauren.
“You jerk! Now you’re blaming her for her own death? What kind of a lover are you? What do you mean if she just listened to you?”
She was like a child in a tantrum. She pounded on his chest as she said those words. Wade said nothing. She sank down on her knees, her head on her knees, sobbing. A wave of silence washed over the place. When she looked up, her parents were entering the room. Her mother ran to her side.
“Oh, sweetie! Stop crying! Reagan wouldn’t want you to waste your time over your tears.” Her mom patted her head, while her dad kissed her forehead.
“Where is he? Didn’t you see him on your way in? I’m pretty sure I didn’t hear any shuffling before you went in.”
“What? Who?”
“Wade. Wade Brooks. Reagan’s pathetic boyfriend. He was here,” she said as her eyes scanned the place. No sign of him.
“Wade? Honey, you must have been hallucinating,” her dad answered, his eyebrows in a knot.
“I’m sure of what I saw.”
“You’re mistaken, Lauren. Wade’s gone. He died in the car crash. He was the driver at that time.”