It’s sunny today. The light beams through the window of my childhood room, illuminating the half the room and bringing with it a gentle heat. It warms my skin as I stare out at the great blue sky. It’s pristine, absolutely spotless, which is a shame. Gwen liked clouds. I’d never been able to pin down why, but she’d always been fascinated by them. She would’ve like there to be a few on this day. Probably. I can’t say for sure. And it's not like I could do anything about it if I knew. I let out a deep breath. I’ve been doing that a lot the past few days. Gwen used to do it when she was stressed. She used to scrunch up her nose too. She did that even when we were young. Whenever she was annoyed, frustrated or tired, which was a lot now that I think about it. I used to cheer her up with a little joke and she’d give me that small knowing smile. There was probably a little pity in it too, considering I sucked at making jokes. A smile played on my lips, but it quickly disappeared.
Moron. You shouldn’t be smiling today.
I turn to look at the clock, stepping into the shadow and feel the heat on my face fade. 11:17. I’ve got just over twenty minutes. I should probably finish getting ready. I lean over my bed and grab the tie from off my nightstand. It takes a few seconds, but my bruised hands remember how to tie it. I pause as it tightens around my neck, the sensation familiar. It’s on the periphery of my mind but I can’t place it. Ah, prom. Nearly five years ago now. Gwen had tightened my tie whilst we’d been in the limo. She’d been worried and made it too tight. I remembered now.
Prom had been great. I’d picked up Gwen and Aunt Helen had taken so many photos. I couldn’t blame her though, Gwen had looked amazing. After her mum had stopped showering us with attention we’d gotten in the rented limo and made our way to school. I’d expected Gwen to be all nervous, and jittery, but she’d been in perfectionist mode. It’s why she’d tried to fix my hair, my tie, my glasses, and even the shine of my shoes. Perfectionist mode meant she felt helpless. I hadn’t asked, but it probably had something to do with her Dad. Whenever he was doing something big she always felt helpless. I understood the feeling better than anyone. It’s probably why she felt so comfortable trying to ‘fix’ me. She’d done it the entire prom and I hadn’t minded. But Gwen always felt guilty about her perfectionist episodes it afterwards. I repeatedly told her I didn’t mind, but I guess she still felt like she’d done something wrong. It had been even more apparent at prom.
She’d started feeling guilty after the dance. I’d been my usual clumsy self, and she’d snapped at me to at least try and not step on her feet. I’d found that quite funny. Afterwards she’d been overly quiet, just staying close to me. We’d sat in the corner sharing one of those drinks with the special straws. I remembered it clearly because I’d wanted to kiss her. I hadn’t because it would’ve been inappropriate. She was too busy worrying about her dad and we’d technically gone as friends.
I could see in her eyes, that she’d felt like she’d ruined the day. She hadn’t. I wish I told her that. At the time, I’d thought it better to not say anything. Out of sight out of mind or something like that. It had been a completely on brand mistake. I was always making those in all my relationships. I really wish I’d said something though. She’d brought it up again recently, but had completely failed to mention she’d been worried her dad might die. We’d been talking about our Prom’s with the others and she’d said how bad she’d felt for ruining it for me. I’d tried to play it down, but the others had just given me looks of pity, and Bella had scolded her for being insensitive. They didn’t understand, and I didn’t expect them to. Why should they? I let out a deep breath. It didn’t matter now anyway. None of it mattered now.
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I slipped into my suit jacket, the weight of it heavy across my shoulders. I dusted it off and tucked in my shirt before doing up the buttons. I walked over to the mirror, checking over myself. The bruise on my face has gone down and my eyes were clear, sharp. I didn’t look as miserable as I felt. I just look tired. The suit’s a bit too big. It was Uncle Ben’s. It’s been more than ten years and I’m a lot bigger now, but I still don’t fit into it. I’m still not half the man he was. I sigh, more unwanted memories flooding into my brain. I’m realising now that I’ll probably never get used to funerals.
I’d been too young to understand the pain of my parents’ one, just old enough to feel the crushing weight of Uncle Ben’s, and now I was old enough to understand why I was hurting, but still too young to process the pain. Or maybe every funeral was different; they were for different people after all. Still, they were all loved ones. I didn’t have many of those, and even among them Gwen had been special. I don’t know what it was, she’d always just captivated me. It definitely helped that we were the same age, but there was something else too. Maybe it was her curiosity, maybe it was her perseverance, or maybe it was her smile. She’d had a great smile.
And now she’d never smile again. Or maybe she’d be smiling down from heaven or some kind of afterlife. I never really believed in any of that stuff, but whenever bad things like this happened, I always questioned myself. It’d be better if I could blindly believe she was existing peacefully in the afterlife, waiting for me. Either way, Gwen had been too young to die. Or maybe you’re never too young? Some people have to bury their kids after all. Still, she deserved to live. Well, everyone does, but she really deserved it. She was amazing. Not just because she was smart, not just because she was pretty, and not because of all the awards she’d won, or all the people’s lives she touched, but because she was Gwen. The one and only, absolutely incredible, Gwen Stacy.
Does that even actually mean anything?
I don’t know, but it felt like it did. Grief makes me ramble, I guess.
I walked back over to the window and stared out at the street. The car’s already waiting. It’s sleek, black and seemingly soulless. In absolutely contrast to it’s bright and glowing surroundings. And glow it does. The sun’s light gives all the streets colours a radiance only seen in movies and those nicely shot ads. It’s too good. Maybe because I feel so bleak inside.
I glance back up at the still spotless sky, the sun’s glow creating a smooth gradient of baby blues. Today’s perfect. I can even hear kids playing in the background, the sound of their laughter echoing from down the street. It reminds me of my childhood. When Uncle Ben, MJ, Gwen and I would all play on the front lawn. Throwing frisbees, playing tag with Einstein - Gwen’s Labrador, and best of all laying in the grass staring up at the clouds. We would have the most fun on nice days.
“Nice days…” I mumbled, still staring up at the sky. I stare at the sky for a while, feeling the warm pressure of the sun on my face and the chill of grief’s weight on my shoulders. Slowly, a single solitary cloud floats across the sky. I watch it and before it disappears from view take a quick picture with my phone. The sound of children’s laughter continues to echo through the street and I watch as a few kids cycle down the road on their bikes.
It’s a nice day today. That’s a good thing. Or at least it should be.
A soft knock comes from my door. I don’t say anything even though I know I should. After a few seconds it opens anyway. It’s May. I don’t hear what she says, but I know it’s time to go. I flash a smile as she hugs me, then looks me up and down, complimenting how good the suit looks on me. There’s a sadness in her eyes as she says it and a feel another, familiar stab of guilt. She gives me a small kiss on the forehead then makes her way out the room. I look around slowly then pick up the photo on my bedside and slip it into my suit pocket. I glance back and take a final look at the cloud before it disappears from view. May calls my name, worried, and I let out another tired breath. Even if it’s bitter, it’s time to go. I definitely don’t want to be late today.