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I always knew that death was synonymous with pain, suffering and hurt. When I think of death I see people sitting in black clothes in churches with their heads down and the coffin with flowers placed on top at the front of the church or people sitting alone with a picture of their loved one that had just passed away. Whenever you see movies it's always someone lying perfectly still while tears run down their faces. I was like this for sometime when it happened to my family and I thought like a movie, my life would be rosy after a few scenes but it isn't. Everything is in a standstill and I can't handle it.

* * * * *

I had been staring at the same lump of granite for several hours and the letters on it were not changing. It still said 'Joshua Williams- Friend, Brother, Son 1986-2006. God rest your soul'. My mind was once clear and I had all my thoughts in a neat little inbox but now my head was like a painting with the paint smeared all over it and I couldn't ever control it. No matter how many times I came here on a Saturday, nothing changed. It still had the same words and I was the only one who came to remove the flowers and change them. Joshua never had a favourite flower so I just stuck to simple daffodils in spring and in winter I didn't bother. No one would come and change them in the blistering cold on a dark night.
It had started to rain in the cemetery and it was getting dark. I am a brave person but the cemetery still frightens me. As I have just said, it was raining and my t-shirt was soaked through and my jeans were starting to stick to my skin, which I hate so I decided to head for home. I should have worn my smart shoes with the laces but I chose to wear my flat sparkly shoes like I was going to a disco or something and this was a stupid idea. My argument was that we should have had Joshua cremated. If they didn't want his ashes then I would gladly have them.
Although I had my bus pass, I still decided to walk. My brown boring shoulder length hair was matted and stuck to my forehead and neck with a tickly aggravation. I never expected to become such a recluse when my brother died. We didn't even talk much but there was some safety in knowing he was there since my dad and I didn't connect much. People stared as I walked past with no umbrella and my now almost transparent t-shirt; not even caring that the rain was heavy.
We had moved to this town a little while ago. My mum after having her 'breakdown'
Decided that a change of scene was needed. I didn't want to leave Dover though. I was happy and popular and I had a sense of educational and vocational direction. Ha! That's all gone now and we are left miserable with only me left as a child and my parent's marriage on the verge of ending. Life is definitely going our way.
Why did my parents have to become so self obsessed? Why did my brother have to get into that car? Why was I born? Questions filled my head one by one and after a while my legs carried me home and my brain just began to fill my head with questions.
When I finally reached my house, I saw my parents' car was in the driveway but dad had left the window half rolled down. My dad never could deal with death and Joshua's hit him hard. I went over and rolled up the window as best as I could with my arm going inside the car window but I didn't succeed as I couldn't reach the handle so I gave up and hoped the rain would stop soon. Upon entering the house, my cat Shanks, rubbed against my leg which he only does when he is hungry. I found an empty glass that had contained some red wine on the table and saw that my mum had put the red tablecloth on the table.
'Hmm, ominous' I muttered to myself and made the cat's dinner. I saw that the answering machine was flashing a number three so I pressed play and a metal sounding voice filled the air. 'You have three messages.'

'Hello Mr and Mrs Williams, this your bank. Could you call and make an appointment with me because we need to hold a meeting regarding your house. Thank you'.
I deleted the message and waited for the next one.

'Hey sissy it's your sister. Call me ok and we will meet up sometime. Say hi to the family for me. Bye' I pressed the save button and listened to the last message

'Hello Mr and Mrs Williams this is Mr Roberts, Nicola's teacher. Please call me back so we can talk. Thank you' I pressed the delete button on this message so hard I hurt my finger and went upstairs.

In my room I saw that Elka had cleaned and I was not happy. If my room stays messy there is a chance that what I think is lost may actually turn up under my foot one day. I could hear my parents having another raised argument that was probably about money again and possibly Elka. My mum always says that my dad buying Nectar Cottage and hiring 'that Swedish witch' was a mistake because we were barely getting by, even in Dover and we could barely keep up the payments and an expensive Swedish maid.

'SHUT UP!!!!' I yelled at the wall, slamming my fists into the faded wallpaper.

I couldn't take their bickering anymore and it was seriously getting on my nerves so I picked my glass of water and threw it at the wall. Elka is going to have one heck of a cleaning job. I probably threw that glass to get a bit of attention but it would never come from them. They would instead discuss at the dinner table the reasons they believe I threw the glass. I wanted it to be like a TV programme. I do something wrong, I get punished and we hug at the end but that never happened. So I came up with as many disastrous ways to get their attention as possible with the amount of breakables in our house. Last time I tried to talk with my dad, he shoved a ten-pound note in my hand and told me to go outside and play. No wonder I was reaching out in violent ways.
Elka came almost immediately and began to clean up while saying stuff in Swedish. I didn't know why we didn't just get rid of her and then I remembered. Dad needed her as his second 'wife' if you like and mum knew this but she just didn't care anymore.
'You know Elka, you shouldn't be rude to those that can speak a better language than yours' I said to her loftily and picked up a shard of glass before dropping it onto her hand. I hate Elka and she hates me probably because I am legal in this country and I don't like her very grabby hands all over everything and her eyes always darting around looking at the chandelier to the expensive coffee table. She even brought up the idea of coasters.

I waited until late that night. When I knew the only people on the streets were prostitutes and their prey. Druggies who decided to doss around on the night time pavements and the occasional drunk club hags who decided that it was the right night to get drunk and make fools of their selves. Yes, I decided to leave at that moment. I opened my parents' door and saw that my mum was asleep but my dad was not there.
'Probably out with Elka' I muttered not even bothering to see if my mum was asleep properly.
I closed the door and went back to my room and hastily began packing anything I could find from socks to books. It was not a big bag but it would have to do. I didn't know where I was going to go but frankly I didn't care. Anywhere that wasn't here. Just before I opened my front door to leave I heard a noise behind me and turned. Elka was staring at me and wasn't saying anything so I just turned closing the door behind me with no regard for noise or my mother and walked down the path.

It was the end but the beginning and I was free. I could do anything and I was. Leaving was a new thing for me. I know that if I could take back this chapter of my life named 'deathly alone' I would, but it doesn't really need a name in my brain. So I flicked my hair out of the back of my coat and kept walking not knowing where I was going but safe in the knowledge I was going somewhere.