WHEN SOMEONE DIED, FUNERALS WERE a necessity. For everyone I knew who passed on, their closest loved ones planned their funeral. Everyone wore black because we often thought of the color as death. Women forgot to wear their waterproof mascara and had smudges on their cheeks before the service even began. Young children sat with their parents, impatient and unaware of what was going on. It had not dawned on them that someone they once knew had vanished from their lives. People carried small packages of tissue to wipe their eyes and runny noses during the service, not wanting to get up to go to the church's restroom. The men usually held themselves together until they were alone. That was when they truly broke down.

The day of Jillian's funeral was a tough one. Olivia constantly ran around the apartment, saying something about her left heel missing. I remained on the sofa with my eyes glued on the black television screen. A bowl of cereal without milk sat on the sofa beside me and I put some into my mouth, chewing slowly. As much as I wanted to go, it would be a bad idea if I went to the funeral. Harry was going to be there and he obviously hated me. If I showed up, it was going to be just like the scene at the hospital. Although Olivia tried to convince me to go, I decided it would be best if I stayed behind. I told her I was going to be fine and she had absolutely nothing to worry about. She eventually gave up and went back to looking for her missing heel. I was thankful and I went back to looking at the blank television screen, wondering what was currently playing.

"Are you sure you haven't seen it?"

Olivia hurried out of her room and before I could answer, she disappeared into the kitchen as if it somehow magically appeared in there. I brought my knees up to my chest and nibbled on the inside of my cheek. A smile formed on my lips as she cursed under her breath and I heard something fall. I shoved some more cereal into my mouth as she came out of the kitchen, rubbing the side of her head gently. My assumption was clearly wrong and nothing had fallen. Instead, Olivia had hit her head on what I assumed was one of the cabinets.

She glared at me and then at the television screen, "You aren't watching anything."

"But I am."

"But you aren't. The screen is black."

"You don't see what I'm seeing?" I teased.

"You worry me, Evans."

"Have you not seen the show where the woman moved to Seattle to seek a better life and she ended up experiencing the worst stay ever? I mean, come on. She fell in love with a man who was happily devoted to a woman who enjoyed helping others. Now, she's dead and the woman is pretty sure the man hates her. Honestly, she should just sit down and write a novel about her life. Everyone would buy it. I bet a nickel and," I stuck my hand between the sofa cushions, "a small piece of lint."

"Stop talking about yourself in third person."

"I never said my name. I could be talking about another woman whose life is screwed."

"Come to the funeral with me."

"No."

"Then shut up and help me find my shoe."

"Wear a different pair of shoes. Why wear heels to a funeral? I'm sure you're going to be doing a lot of standing around."

She pulled at one of her curls, "You think so?"

"I know so."

"Okay," she sighed. "I'm going to wear my flats instead. I really wish you would come with me and show some sort of moral support. I did let you move in with me, after all."

"Are you trying to guilt trip me into going?"

"Why? Why do you ask?" she leaned forward a little. "Is it working?"

"No."

"Then no."

I raised my eyebrows at her as she went into her room to retrieve her other shoes. Billy—whose real name was actually William—was going to pick her up and drive to the church because he believed she was not going to be able to drive afterwards. He was a very good man and he was very good to her. She was his queen and he was her king. Although he did not talk much and she did not know when to close her mouth, they were the perfect match. They made me believe opposites did attract...and that gave me a little bit of hope and dignity.

"What are you going to do all day, then?" Olivia asked from her bedroom. "You can't just sit in here and do nothing."

"Watch me."

"Can't," she said. "I'm going to a funeral. You should come so we can hold hands and cry together."

"I'd rather stay indoors and eat cereal than go to a funeral where everyone is sad."

"But everyone is sad," she peeked out of her room and smiled. "The world is a very sad place."

"You're making this exceedingly depressing."

"It's the color of my dress," she chuckled. "It's getting to me."

I envied how she was able to joke around on this particular day. How was anyone able to joke around when they were about to go to a funeral? Olivia was extremely interesting and she always left me wondering what went on in that head of hers. She disappeared back into her room and I suspected she was still struggling to find the right pair of shoes. I played around with the cereal in the bowl, not motivated to eat it anymore. I picked it up and carried it into the kitchen, dumping the remains in the trash can and placing the bowl in the sink.

I ran my fingers through my tangled hair and tugged at the ends effortlessly. Rocking back and forth on my feet, I realized Olivia was going to see Harry today and, once again, I envied her. They were probably going to exchange a few words and they were probably going to hug. I wanted to exchange words with him and have him wrap his arms around my waist. I wanted to take in his smell and snuggle my nose in his tuxedo, never wanting to leave his side.

The sound of a key entering the front door made me jump and I quickly turned around, my hands gripping the edge of the sink. Footsteps echoed throughout the apartment and I raised my eyebrows when Billy stepped into the kitchen. His tuxedo was black and he wore an untucked white, button down shirt underneath. His hair looked like he did not even bother to touch it and his left shoe was untied. He was too busy fixing his watch on his wrist to notice me standing in front of the sink and my lips parted.

"Did you oversleep?" I suddenly asked. He quickly looked up and his eyes widened at the sight at me. I waved at him and it was his turn to do the raising of the eyebrows. He then tucked in his shirt and bent over to tie his shoe. "Okay, so you overslept. No big deal. However, you forgot your tie."

"You're chatty," he muttered.

I shrugged my shoulders at his response and walked out of the kitchen. I made my way down the hall to my room and I shut the door behind me, locking it, and plopping down on my bed. Hair fell in front of my eyes and instead of moving the strands of hair, I closed my eyes and hoped for the best. I was still trying to get used to living with Olivia and I was waiting for the most appropriate time to call this place home. In reality, this apartment was not my home. My home was back at Harry's house with our laughs and our amazing memories.

I heard Olivia and Billy socializing and then Olivia yelled out, saying something about them leaving. I did not bother to respond because I heard the front door being shut and locked. Rolling over onto my stomach, I exhaled slowly and tucked a lock of hair behind my left ear.

It took everything within me to move in with Olivia. She was such a nice person and if she really knew me, she would not have offered to help me out. She would have let me go just like Harry had. I would have been kicked to the curb as if I was a crumbled piece of paper someone decided to drop on the ground rather than finding the nearest trash can. I would have been worthless to her. A small piece of me wished I had declined her offer. I sometimes regretted moving in with her but there was nothing I could do about it right now. I had only been here for about a week. I could not find it in me to pack all of my things again and leave without telling anyone.

Olivia was more than willing to help me and I realized out of all the people I met, she was my go-to-person. She barely knew me and she offered me the spare bedroom in her apartment. I never questioned why she had two bedrooms when it was just her. I took the offer and the room became mine. I often wondered if I was going to mess up and if she was going to kick me out like Harry had. He did not specifically kick me out but he said he wanted me out of his life, therefore, kicking me out without actually saying the exact words.

My hands balled up into fists and I sat up, groaning. Olivia was right when she asked me what I was going to do while she was at the funeral. As of right now, I had no idea what I was going to do and the boredom was killing me. I could have continued to sit around and mope over how Harry hated my guts. I also could have turned on some music and danced around the apartment since no one was home. Running a tired hand down my face, I knew what I had to do. Staying in here all day was going to do me no good and I was alone since Billy and Olivia had already left.

Who knew how long they were going to be gone?

I did not hesitate to get off the bed and slide my feet into my slippers. I needed to get out of the apartment for a little bit. If I stayed in here any longer, I was going to lose my mind and give myself a stroke. My keys sat on the breakfast bar and I grabbed them on my way out, locking the door behind me. There were a few people outside but none of them even looked my way. I approached my car and unlocked the doors before getting inside and pressing my head against the steering wheel. I swallowed hard enough to make myself believe if someone else was in the car, they would have heard it, too. My hands were placed firmly on my lap and I took deep breaths.

It was official.

I was downright, totally, utterly, to the core depressing.

I turned the key in the ignition and backed out of the parking lot. The volume for the radio was turned all of the way down and I turned it up, afraid to be in the quietness with my own saddening thoughts.

I had no idea where I was going but when I saw the little marketplace, I somehow managed to pull my car over to the parking lot and get out. I did not have any money on me but that was fine. I did not plan on buying anything because I had no idea where my destination was. I planned on just looking around and that was it. People walked around outside, looking at all of the different stuff there was to buy. I seemed to be the only person in my pajamas and I somewhat liked being an outsider from everyone else. Wrapping my arms around myself, I passed by different fruits and vegetables.

"What's this?" I asked, holding up the red fruit for the woman to see.

"That," she grinned, "is a red mango."

"Interesting," I murmured, placing it back with the others and moving along to see what else they had.

I walked by crowds of people and when some of them looked my way, I smiled back and wrapped my arms tighter around myself. The leaves on the trees surrounding the marketplace were slowly changing colors, reminding me that autumn was gradually making its way here. The wind blew and I looked up at the sky before closing my eyes.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

In—

"Sydney?"

My eyes opened without my permission and I looked around to see who called my name. When my gaze locked with Amelia's, my heart nearly stopped beating in my chest. She was standing a few feet away from me and she was holding one of the red mangoes I thought were pretty cool. George was fast asleep in his stroller and he was constantly sucking on his pacifier. I felt glued to the pavement. Was I supposed to go to her or was she supposed to come to me? What was she even doing here? Jillian's funeral was currently going on and she was here at a marketplace.

She placed the mango back down and approached me slowly, pushing the stroller and checking on her sleeping child at the same time. The closer she got, the more I wanted to take off running. She was holding a little basket with different fruits inside of it but the look on her face made me believe she was just going to put everything back and leave.

"What are you doing here?" I blurted out.

She smiled at me and the pang in my chest worsened, "I'm getting fruit for my family."

"But...But—"

"The funeral?" she shook her head and her smile faded. "I don't go to funerals, Sydney." I wanted her to stop saying my name but I was too much of a coward to say it aloud. I simply nodded my head but her smile did not return. "I'm assuming you don't, either."

"I'm so sor—"

"I don't want your pathetic apologies," she snapped, catching me completely off guard. "She didn't know you and you sure as hell didn't know her." She moved the stroller back and forth a bit to keep George asleep. "I talked to her the day she died, you know. She was on the phone with me while she was on her way home. She was supposed to come by my house later on that evening." A lump formed in my throat. "My best friend was murdered and you were too busy fooling around with her boyfriend. I know. We all know. So, no, you don't get to say you're sorry. You don't get to act as if this is affecting you because it isn't. The only pain you have is heartache because Harry doesn't want to fool around with you anymore."

"Now, hold on a minute—"

"No, you hold on a minute," she hissed. "You came into Seattle without any friends. You didn't know anyone and you didn't know your way around. The first night I met you, I thought we were going to be great friends. I let you hold my baby and I even offered to show you around the city with Olivia. You never took us up on our offer but I let it slide. Harry wanted all of us to be friends and I was okay with that because you were new in town. But the moment my friend called me and told me he was letting you move in, I hated you.

"You don't know how many times she came over to my house late at night crying because Harry cancelled their plans. It was so obvious he wanted to hang out with you. He always said he was out with the guys but he never was. We called and they said he wasn't with them. He lied because he wanted to be with you. Was it worth it, Sydney? Was it all worth it? Because I'd say it wasn't. My friend is about to get put in the ground and Harry wants nothing to do with you. I'm surprised you're still here, actually."

"Amelia—"

"Jillian is dead and as a living human being, it is in my nature to blame someone. I don't know who ended my friend's life but I know you ruined her relationship. I blame you, Sydney. I blame you for her death. I blame you."

Then she placed her little basket on the ground beside her and walked off, brushing her shoulder against mine as she made her way to her car.

As I watched her leave, the pain in my chest got worse and my hands went to my throat, clawing at it as I struggled to get enough oxygen to my lungs. I heard my keys fall on the ground but that did not stop me. My eyes began to water and I coughed as my lungs became angry with me for not filling them with the nonmetallic bivalent element they so desperately needed. My hands moved from my throat to the collar of my shirt. I constantly pulled at it and I saw people rushing in my direction. Their lips were moving but I was unable to hear them due to the ringing in my ears. I fell onto my knees and my coughing had turned into drastic choking.

I had forgotten how to breathe.