Page 80 of Surviving Slater

"I'm not sure," I replied. The date for the funeral hadn't been set yet. "I'll let you know."

"Sure. If you need anything I'm just a phone call away."

After I ended the call, I stared at the phone. Taylor was a good friend but I didn't want to endanger her emotional state with a funeral, which would remind her of her parents' deaths. Besides, I was okay.

I didn't feel sad like the rest of my family. I knew him for who he truly was. I let out an emotional breath. Then I remembered the missed call from Slater.

For a moment I considered returning his call but decided against it. It didn't matter why he called. I had told him to stay out of my life and I had meant it.

Was he concerned like Taylor? Did he somehow know I had left town and thought it might have something to do with him? That seemed most likely. He felt responsible and that's why he had felt the need to call.

The next coupleof days dragged on. I grew tired of keeping on guard, pretending I was grieving for my deceased uncle. My mother was still struggling to cope and my Aunt Janet was like a zombie, unable to function.

Even in my own screwed-up way I felt guilty, but I hid it well. Two days of keeping it up was draining me, though. I just wanted the funeral over and done with so I could leave, to have time to deal with everything away on my own.

The day of the funeral had finally arrived. The cloudy weather outside matched my mood. I hadn't been sleeping well. The nightmares had stopped but I couldn't seem to fall into a deep sleep.

I felt on edge. Maybe it was because I was tired, and keeping up the facade took energy.

"You ready?" my mom asked from the doorway.

"Yes," I said, turning to face her.

It began to drizzle as we stood beside the newly dug grave as the priest continued with the service. It was difficult to look at the big picture of him to the right side of the priest.

My mom began to cry and I put my arm around her. My other hand held an umbrella over us. My eyes fixed on the coffin that held the body of my deceased uncle.

I couldn't wait for it to be over. I planned on leaving the following day. My mom had her family and my Aunt Janet to mourn with. I couldn't pretend anymore.

It stopped drizzling by the end of the service and I closed the umbrella as they lowered my uncle into the ground. I couldn't even pretend to cry. My mom grasped my hand in hers.

After the service my mom left me on my own, to thank some friends for attending.

Lack of sleep and feeling emotionally drained kept me in place by the grave. Would his death finally set me free? My childhood memories had been tarnished by the very person who was supposed to protect me. Now that he was gone, would the lingering pain go too?

I let out an emotional breath. It was time to get on with it, so I turned to leave…and then stopped.

A few graves away stood Slater. He was dressed in a black suit and a long black coat, and he stood unmoving. My heart stirred to life as our eyes met. Why was he here? How did he know where I was?

I walked to him.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, checking over my shoulder to see if my mother had noticed us yet, but she was still busy speaking to a friend and wasn't looking in our direction.

"I was worried about you." My eyes connected with him.

"I'm okay," I said, shrugging my shoulders. Maybe I shouldn't have said that. I should be mourning the loss of a close relative. Did it set off alarm bells that I wasn't?

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thanks," I said, unsure of what to say.

"Were you close?"

Uncomfortable with his question, I shrugged again. His eyes narrowed, studying me more closely, like he was looking for something. Then I realized why.

"I'm not taking anything," I told him. Not that it was any of his business. "I stopped taking them the day after you told me to get my shit together."

"I'm glad to hear that."