The Falling.

A Chapter by Julie Steele

He sat silently gazing out the car window, the sun warm against his face. His black suit making him warmer still, though he seemed not to notice . He was more occupied wiping the most urgent tears from his face. They were much more heated then the temperature of the mid- April morning. The cool air blowing from the vents in front of him seemed to have no affect on him, feeling nothing but numbness.

The car rolled to a stop in the line of vehicles they were following. His mothers nervous hands shook on the steering wheel. He placed his hand upon her's, giving her a weak smile that she didn't return. He knew exactly how she was feeling on the inside. He just couldn't let it show. He knew he had to be strong, to hold it together or else he would fall completely apart. Once that happened he didn't know if it would be possible to piece himself back together. He could already feel himself falling apart at the seams, one popped stitch at a time.

He slowly slid out of the car, pulling his poker face on. Everyone must of been inside the funeral home already. He knew they weren't late, but he certainly hadn't wanted to arrive early. It was hard enough just showing up. He held his mother around the shoulders as they made their way inside. It was darkly lit, and i few people were standing around in their dark clothing. It seemed more like a vampire hangout instead of a funeral home.

He walked his mother to a seat towards the back. Keeping his head low so no one would notice him as he made his way to the awaiting casket. There she was, lovely as ever. Her blonde hair was like a halo around her soft face. The white dress she wore made it hard not to picture her as the angel he knew she was. Her lips were more pale than they were naturally. It hurt him to look at her this way; still, never to be held in his arms again. His heart thudded rapidly against his chest. His eyes burned to cry, but he wouldn't allow himself. Not here.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to her cheek for the last time. It was a hard thing for him to do, but he knew if he didn't he would regret it later on.

"Spencer..." A soft voice whispered close beside him.

He turned his head to find Raven standing there. It hurt to look at her soft face, covered in her dark everyday make up. It was like looking at his own personal hell. Her face identical to the girl laying before him in the coffin. "Hi,Raven." His voice broke.

She reached out her hand as if to lay it on his shoulder but suddenly pulled back. He knew she was hurting yet he couldn't reach out to her here. If he did he might loose his control. He might break in front of all these people and never regain himself. So instead he gave her a forced smile and went to his seat next to his mother.