Private Universe

I woke on the eleventh restless and tired. The night before was bad. I didn't get much sleep and I was nervous about the funeral. I wasn't going to know anyone and no one was going to know me. Except for Harold, of course. I got up early and forced myself into the shower. I took my time hoping the warm water would wake me up. When it failed I turned the water to cold and spent less than a minute in the freezing water.

It helped wake me up but it made me extremely jumpy. I threw something comfortable on because it was way too early to put the dress on. I headed to the kitchen letting my hair air dry and wanting something to eat. I saw the cook had made me a meal and I suddenly felt sick. There was nothing in the world that I would have wanted to eat at that moment.

I turned around and went back up to my room and just watched TV. I wasn't paying attention to it but it was a decent distraction. Eventually, it came time to get ready for the funeral. My hair was so long that I just decided to straighten it and let it do what it wanted. I slipped on my black dress that was short but not slutty short. It covered me in all the right places so I wasn't too worried.

After slipping on my shoes I headed down to meet Harold. There wasn't much to say. I could tell he was holding back tears and I felt guilty that I wasn't on the verge of crying. But then again, I never knew her. No matter how much he had told me about her. The car ride was silent and I was thankful. I wasn't sure my throat was going to open and form words if I needed it to.

The church was huge. I felt extremely small standing next to it. And being inside was even worse. Harold was seated near the front since he knew her so well. I sat alone in the back not wanting to draw attention to myself. The minister was standing, waiting for everyone to arrive. There was a man sitting near the minister who was, I had to admit, handsome. But in a very typical way. In a way that said he was once the quarter back oh his high school team.

He was wearing a suit that I could tell he had paid way too much for. I rolled my eyes and looked away. After about fifteen minutes of people waiting the minister began to speak. I settled into my seat and listened. Soon, everyone around me was in tears. And I started to feel guilty again.

**

The minister spoke for over an hour and I still hadn't cried. I felt heartless and like I shouldn't even be there. The man sitting near the minister had introduced himself after the minister had finished. I almost choked when I heard the name Christopher Reynolds come out of his mouth. I also wanted to vomit at the thought of spending any more time in his presence after the funeral.

The only reason I had to stay would be because of the will. If I had my way I would get my ass as far away from Christopher Reynolds as possible. He was creepy and he just made me shiver down to my core. There was something not right about him. I couldn't quite put my finger on it but being anywhere near him felt wrong.

We had a short break between the minister finishing and the reading of the will. Most of the people had cleared out while some stayed and attempted to snack on the food that was provided. I was still feeling sick, if not more now that he was here, so I didn't eat much. None of it tasted right anyway. But that could have been just me.

I was standing next to Harold as he talked to someone I didn't know when I felt a tap on my shoulder. It took all of my self control not to scream when I saw Christopher Reynolds smiling at me. There was something behind the smile that I couldn't place, but it unsettled me.

"Miss. Evans." He said politely.

"Mr. Reynolds."

"Please, call my Christopher."

"I'd prefer Mr. Reynolds, thanks." I said stiffly. There was no way I was going to have him address me by my first name.

"I see." Something flashed behind his eyes but it was so fast I may have just imagined it. "Walk with me, will you?" He held out his arm like they did ages ago. I hesitated before taking it.

"How did you know who I was?" I asked as he lead me to the garden outside the Church.

"I've known who you were for quite some time now." He smiled. I felt myself shiver. I really wished Alex was here.

"Really?" I tired to sound like nothing was bothering me, but in reality every nerve in my body was firing and telling me to run away.

"Yes. I'm quite taken with you, to say the least."

"I see." Please someone call. Please. Went through my head so many times.

"I'm sorry about your grandmother."

"I didn't really know her."

"Oh?" He sounded surprised. "That's very interesting." He thought a moment and I contemplated my chances of running. Then I cursed myself for wearing heels.

"Why's that?"

"You'll see." He suddenly grinned at me. It looked off and made me shiver again. "Are you cold?"

"No, no. Just sudden chills." I tried to smile but I was finding it difficult.

"Ah. Well, I guess we should get back to the church. I think the reading will begin soon. I just wanted to have a small chat with you." He smiled at held out his arm again. "Still not going to accept my offer for anything after?"

"No, thanks. I haven't eaten much today and I doubt I'll be able to eat much later."

We walked back to the church in an awkward silence. I was so grateful when he left to find out what he would be doing. I nearly sprinted towards Harold and I didn't leave his side once. There was no way I was letting myself be alone with Christopher Reynolds again.

Around two in the afternoon everyone that was left sat themselves down in the first couple rows of seating. There wasn't much of us left but there was still a fair few. I sat next to Harold and saw Christopher Reynolds stand where the minister did and smirk at me. And all I wanted at that moment was a shower and a plane ticket far away from here.

**

I sat there in shock. I knew every single person was looking at me and I couldn't move. Christopher Reynolds had just read the will and I was so surprised that I couldn't even move to show I was still alive. Harold was sitting next to me trying to tell me something but I couldn't hear him. My ears weren't working properly. They were still ringing at what I just heard.

"Mrs. Anita Evans has given everything she owns to her only grandchild, Miss. Zooey Evans."

I got everything. No one else in the room was even mentioned. I felt sick to my stomach and I hated that everyone was looking at me. I felt my cheeks go red and I could feel the heat coming off of them. I only partially registered that Christopher Reynolds was grinning at me. As I slowly came back to life I saw all the people that had stayed give me one last dirty look before leaving. It wasn't right and I knew it.

Harold was the only one, other than Mr. Reynolds, that stayed to make sure I didn't die. Only I think he stayed because he was my ride home. I was almost one-hundred percent sure he wasn't too happy with me. I wouldn't be happy with me either. He knew my grandmother all his life and he got nothing. I kind of hated myself right now.

"So how about that dinner?" I heard a voice next to me. I didn't even bother looking at him. I was not in the mood.

"No."

"Come on. We can celebrate."

"No, thank you." I said as politely as I could. I saw his fist clench and I chanced a glance at him. His eyes were closed and he looked like he was trying to control whatever emotion had just run through his body. When he saw me he smiled. There was nothing genuine about it.

"Well, congratulations." He said stiffly and then walked off fists still clenched.

"Come on." Harold said. He sounded defeated and I hated myself even more.

I climbed in the car as he got it started. We didn't say anything for the entire ride back. I wanted to cry and scream and be away from it all. How was it fair that I got everything? I never met her. I was never truly a part of her life. How could she give everything she owned to me? We arrived at the house and I heard Harold sigh.

"You don't have to leave." I whispered.

"What?"

"You don't have to move out if you don't want to. It's not my house."

"Yes it is. You heard the lawyer. Everything is yours." He said it almost bitterly but he sounded to upset and tired to care.

"No. I may officially own it. But it's not mine. I've never lived in it. I don't deserve it. It's more your house then it will ever be to me." I pulled my knees to my chest to keep myself from crying.

He smiled at me. "I hate to say this, but I'm glad your father never accepted any money from his mother."

I felt tears well up in my eyes. "Why?" I choked out.

"Because they raised you right. You know what it's like without a home and without food. It makes you appreciate things more. I know it sucks. But now you know how to spend all the money and what you shouldn't waste it on." His smile was genuine and I felt a tear slip from my eye.

He got out of the car before I could say anything else. I scrambled out at ran for my room. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I flung myself on my bed, kicking off my heels, and cried. I couldn't stomach a phone call with Alex right now.