Nobody's Hero Chapter 9

It all had happened so fast. The good bye, to promises of seeing them again, heading off with the band, the crash, the pain, the dizziness, the loss......

They were dead. Killed. A semi hit them head-on while they were driving to visit a friend of theirs. Gone. Instantly.

And now we're back, back in my hometown. Back where we started but nothing was the same. Nobody was around anymore, nobody I could hug like I could them.

Jon sat on the edge of the bed as I was in the bathroom of my apartment, throwing up. I couldn't think anymore. Everything I ever had, was gone. I couldn't come to think that they had actually gone.

"Clover, are you alright?" he said, a tone of worry in his voice. "I can take you to the doctor, you've been puking for three hours straight."

I walked out of the bathroom, as Jon looked up at me like a puppy.

"I want to die," I whispered. "I don't deserve you or the band or the tour."

Jon stood up, putting his hands on my waist, and his lips to my ear. "Kmae, you deserve everything you have because you've been so nice to everyone. You've never hurt anyone, and everyone likes you. I love you."

"Why would my parents die then? Why would I be puking in my bathroom and losing 35 pounds in the last week if this is what I deserve?" I cried. "Jon, is this what I deserve? To be so sick at myself that I don't want to live here anymore?"

He hugged me. "Clover, you're my everything. If I lost you, who would I be?"

I hugged him back, tears staining his dark blue Aerosmith t-shirt.

I felt all my feelings come back over me as I ran to the bathroom, and threw up once again. I hadn't eaten in days, and I had already lost 35 pounds in the last week. Tonight was the funeral for my parents.

"Clover, Krystal's here," Jon said, standing in the doorway.

"I'll be down in a minute," I said through tears. I finished, and walked slowly down the stairs. I could hear Krystal and Jon talking.

"She needs to go to the doctor," Jon said, almost in tears. "I don't want to lose her, Krystal."

"What happened?" she asked.

"She's been puking for three hours. Since we got home on Saturday, she's lost over 35 pounds. I'm worried about her, Krystal. I don't know what to do and I'm scared," Jon said in tears.

Krystal put her hand on her head. "Jon, she needs to see a doctor."

"I already tried. She said she doesn't want to. This is the sickest I've seen her in a long time," Jon said, worry in his tone of voice.

I came down the stairs, as Jon and Krystal stood there looking at me. I had one of Jon's shirts on, and it looked like a dress on me because I had lost so much weight.

Krystal was almost in tears when she saw me, and came over and hugged me.

"You're coming tonight, right?" I asked her.

She nodded. "I'd be there if a tornado hit the damn place."

I hugged her tighter. "I better go get ready," I let a few more tears fall.

She nodded, letting me go, as I went back up the stairs.







Jon straightened his tie, as I stood beside him, a black dress on. I tried to keep back the tears as we walked into the funeral home. I was worried, with him by my side, that everyone was going to attack him or ask for autographs, but nobody did. In fact, nobody said a word to him.

We sat through the whole service, and Jon got up and talked in front of everyone.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he cleared his throat. "I've known Mr. and Mrs. Bruce for a long time. Their wonderful daughter, Kmae, has been in my life since I was 14. They allowed me to love her, which is the best present any family member could give me. Yes, we've had rough times, but I don't like to think of them that way."

Krystal inhaled deeply, tears slowly falling down as she held my hand.

"I like to think of them," Jon said, pulling something out of his pocket, "I like to think of them as having one of the best lives ever. This," he showed the object to everyone, "is a clover. To remind them of their daughter, who was very loving and kind to everyone, just as they were." He set it on their urn, which they were cremated together.

Me and Krystal started bawling, as Jon came back down.

"How'd I do?" he asked, holding my other hand tightly in his.

"Wonderful," I whispered. "Just wonderful."

He kissed my forehead, and we listened to the rest of the funeral, before leaving, with footsteps of pain walking behind us.