Best Friend's Brother Read Online Free

I feel
like I haven’t slept in days. Falling asleep wasn’t bad. I was emotionally
exhausted and in most of my dreams, Emma was still alive. It was waking up that
was so horrible…because every time I woke up I had to remind myself that she
was gone and it was like losing her all over again. I’d spend the better part
of my morning crying. The rest of the day I would be numb sometimes and then
other times the grief would sneak back up on me and take me over, body and
soul. Who knew that grief was physically painful?
    “Alexa?” My dad was knocking on my door. I didn’t want to answer it. If I did, that
meant I had to go out there and then I would have to go to the funeral…I didn’t
know how to watch them put my beautiful friend in a hole in the ground. I just
stood there, staring at the door until he finally opened it and poked his head
around the corner. “Baby… are you okay?”
    I nodded, but even that was a lie. I was a wreck.
When I was at school and I first heard about Emma, I thought I’d never feel
anything so terrible. But being back home, in this
room where Emma and I spent so much time laughing and talking and plotting out
our futures…It was indescribable.
    “You ready to go?”
    My inner voice was yelling: No, I don’t want to go!
I tamped it down and said, “Yeah, I’m ready.” My dad took hold of my arm and
together we walked out to the car. He was great. He didn’t try to make me talk
about it. He understood that there was just really nothing to say. When we
drove up in front of the chapel next to the funeral home where the services
were being held, he reached over and squeezed my hand. He still didn’t say
anything, it was just a sign of support and I appreciated it. He waited for me
to reach for the door before he got out. I think he thought there was a
possibility that I would change my mind and not go in after all. If there was
any way I could live with skipping this, I would.
    The little chapel was just filling up when we got
there. We found a seat about three rows from the front and while we sat there
and waited for the services to begin, I took in the crazy scene around me. It
was crazy because it made absolutely no sense at all. There was a white casket
in the front of the chapel…it was closed, thank God. I know that I couldn’t
have taken seeing her like that. I wanted to remember he like she was when she was alive. I knew if I saw her dead…I wouldn’t be able to get
that image out of my brain.
    The casket was covered with yellow and white
flowers. Emma loved the color yellow. Next to the casket was a huge picture of
her. It was one that had been taken outside somewhere and her pretty dark hair
shone in the sun. She had beautiful skin…I was always a little jealous of it.
It was flawless…it made her look like a china doll. Her teeth were perfect too,
and she had really deep dimples when she smiled. Her dark blue eyes topped it
all off. She was gorgeous. Emma could have easily been a model if she had
wanted to. What she wanted to be, was a nurse. It always amazed me that someone
who looked like her could also have such a kind heart. It was my experience
that the pretty girls were usually the mean ones too…except Emma.
    I could see the back of her parent’s heads and the
rest of her family, I presumed. They sat close together in the front row. Her
poor mother was leaning against her father on one side and gripping onto her
brother on the other. It was like she was afraid they
were going to disappear as well. I tried for a second to imagine what she must
be going through, but I had to stop because I felt like I was going to throw
up.
    The pastor came out and began to talk. I listened
quietly, feeling like I was breathing in the sadness all around me. It was
suffocating and once it got inside me, I felt like I wasn’t in control of my
own emotions. My whole body was shaking. My dad was gripping my hand tightly
and I leaned into him and just lost it halfway through the