"We gather here, we line up

Weepin' in a sunlit room."

- My Tears Ricochet (Taylor Swift, 2020)

She saw they boy at her funeral.

The circles beneath his eyes prominent proof of his several sleepless nights. She bet he had cursed her name and wished she'd stayed. She bet he missed her. She bet he heard all those words she would have spoken throughout her life, stolen by her untimely demise, when he couldn't sleep at nigh. Her phantom voice would sing him lullabies.

James Parker stood as far away as he could from the crowd of classmates and family. A good sense of guilt governed his mood. At least, he was remorseful.

Then, she saw the girl she had never quite hated. She had been jealous and then she had pitied her. They had both been pawns in a game neither was aware of. They had both been taken for granted.

Betty tossed in a rose as her casket was lowered into the ground. She felt a slight breeze beckoning her onwards, but she wanted to see more, just for a bit longer. If she wanted, she could go anywhere. Anywhere but home. She could try and talk to James, but it would be as useless as screaming at the sky.

They filled her grave with dirt. She felt a slight weight on her being, trying to pull her away. She hadn't wanted to haunt James, but there she was, sticking around for one last glance.

After the ceremony, James approached her parents. She felt sad about what she had done to them. They hadn't had any idea about what was going on. She hadn't meant it to go down in flames. Her split-second wrong decision had caused them so much pain and yet they didn't blame her. It was, after all, an 'accident'.

James started apologizing and her mother wailed in grief. She almost looked away from the unfolding scene because whatever phantom heart she now bore couldn't stand her parent's sorrow.

James could have been saving face, but he didn't. He broke down and begged for forgiveness. There was pin-drop-silence as he explained his faults. Her parents seemed to be hearing but not processing. They were stricken by his cheating ways. Her mother's eyes were so red rimmed and puffed by the continuous wiping away of tears that she could barely keep them open.

James wished that he had done things differently.

She wished that too.

All the tears she had cried because of him were now turning into his tears.

She didn't want to see anything more. Her memory was enough to haunt him. Hopefully that made him better. Or maybe, she hoped that it would drive him crazy.

Maybe her death would consume him and kill him just the same.

There was no way of telling what was going to happen next, and she didn't want to stick around. She gave into the weight of the sinking feeling.

She couldn't believe she had loved him till her dying day.