Sequel: Folie à Deux

From Under the Cork Tree

Twenty Five

My mom had said I would go through the 5 stages of grief, and that it was okay to feel and express myself as I wanted. I couldn't respond, I was sure she was wrong, I expected to be in disbelief and anger. My heart was broken and it was all John's fault, I blamed him for everything because he wasn't here to defend himself or help me through it.

I was so angry, I could barely see straight.

The only person I really counted on, selfishly, was Pete, because he was there constantly. I pushed everyone, but him, away. There was no certain reason as to why, I wanted him around. Maybe it was because he didn't tip-toe around me, he wasn't afraid to talk to me, he was my friend, not someone who was afraid I would burst and break.

He was my everything for the moment.

Another two days past before I was asked to come to New York for the funeral. This time, I had moved on to being numb. It was this dull feeling in my chest, my heart didn't feel like it was beating any longer, and I didn't really care. What was worse was that I didn't even care what happened to our baby if I kept on this way. I didn't want to live anymore.

I was forced to eat and drink. I was forced on the plane with my parents and Rae. The boys were gone, my safety net was off in LA doing a photo shoot or recording or performing. I was jealous, angry, but it was dull and I didn't act on my feelings.

This was a bad Lifetime movie. I'm not sure what it's about, but it's terrible acting with real life pain. The audience can't feel it, they can see the despair in my eyes. They could see how fake my forced smiles were and how much I dreaded to eat. The audience could sense I would off myself at any moment, being a selfish little bitch, wanting to see her husband one last time.

I did. I wanted to see John so badly, but not in a coffin. I couldn't do that. The last time I saw him, he was smiling, he kissed me and told me everything would be fine and he would be back to stay with me. He lied, and I was angry, but I wanted to see him, to kiss him one last time.

People hugged me, patted my back and offered me things.

"We'll give you some baby clothes."

"Do you need a crib? We have a crib that we can clean up for you."

"Do you have diapers, dear? I'll send you some."

"Honey, you're so frail, eat something!"

These people were all strangers, I didn't know them, and I couldn't see their faces. I was blinded with anger, and I wanted to shout, it was just that the words wouldn't form and I didn't want to hurt anyone, emotionally or physically.

The whole day was like a blur; I didn't speak, I didn't eat, I couldn't. I drank water at Perry's urging, and after, I walked around the house, maneuvering around the friends and family of John.

It was weird how I was supposed to meet these people at our wedding. These people were supposed to see us trade vows and rings, seal it forever with a kiss, and ride away. Everyone would be dressed in beautiful colors...

Everyone was dressed in black; Perry had given me a black veil to wear, but I didn't see the point. I wasn't wearing black, I wore my favorite pastel purple dress; it was silky with lace edging. John loved this dressed, he told me I looked beautiful in it. I wore it because he had hugged me in it, it had been in the closet for a long time, waiting for the next perfect moment. This wasn't it, this was the worst day of my life...why not wear something that reminded me of my love?

I walked down to the basement; it had been turned into a recreation room. There was two TVs, video games, mini fridges, a pool table and two large couches. I didn't hear or see anyone as I trekked down there, then flipped the switch, lighting up the room. I exhaled deeply, making my way to the couch, and sat. I finally felt alone; no one knew I was here.

And then, my silent, empty moment was interrupted. Someone knocked on the wall, and I looked over; it was Anthony. His face was all scrapped up and bruising, but it looked like nothing.

This made me very, very angry.

"I've been lookin' for you," he said softly, continuing down the last few steps.

"Why?" My voice cracked; I licked over my lips, licking away the lip gloss Rae had put on me.

Anthony frowned a bit, making his way to the couch. He sat down on the other couch, cornered to me, "To see how you's the baby?"

I looked down at my stomach, "I dunno. Baby flips a lot, makes fluttery movements."

I kept my eyes on my lap, trying to redirect the anger that was rising through my toes.

"I'm sorry, Angel," he murmured, "I wish--we tried--"

"Stop," I muttered, "I don't wanna hear that."

"Okay. I'm sorry."

"Stop saying sorry. No ones sorry, they just don't know what to say," I spat.

Anthony and I were swept into thick and quiet tension. I think he knew how angry I was.

"I..." He trailed, "I only want to let you know that I'm here for you."

"Yeah, thanks," I looked up at him. "I wanna know, who was driving?"

Anthony swallowed, causing his throat to tense, "John was."

I nodded absently.

"We hit a patch of black ice," he continued, "the tires had no tread, we couldn't stop."

I felt my eyes burn, even though I stared at Anthony.

"What was the last thing he said?" I asked quietly, raising my hand to wipe away escaping tears.

Anthony started to tear up, he leaned forward, he began rubbing his palms on his black jeans, "Angelus, do you--"

"Tell me what he said," I said shortly, feeling the seething fire in my veins, "tell me, Anthony."

He gave a nod and looked down, "He said...he said, "You'll be okay. I'm sorry," and then...the van," he used his fingers to mimick a roll, " rolled..."

I wiped my eyes, "How far was he from the van?"

Anthony shook his head, "Only a few feet...the rolled over him and Nick."

This time, the anger couldn't be contained. I shot up, immediately feeling dizzy and lightheaded, but I was filled with rage and sudden adrenaline.

"Then why isn't Nick dead?" I snapped at him, "Why is John dead? Why didn't he survive? Why didn't you save him?"

Anthony started to sob, placing his palms against his face. My body shook, my vision was blurry, white spots popped in, making my head swim. I didn't feel anger anymore, I felt warm and my body was jelly.


I had passed out and was taken to the hospital. I was given an IV, I was dehydrated. The nurses had said I could've done a lot of damage to my unborn child, but I honestly didn't care then. Nothing mattered to me anymore, I didn't see any point to continue on living.

I was alone for awhile, until Perry showed up. She looked distraught, as I had expected her to be, and slightly angry. I didn't speak as she came in, her lips were set tight, I expected her to speak first. She stopped at the side of my bed, her dark eyes were full of tears, her stance was tense.

"You're such a dumb, foolish, selfish little girl," she spat.

The tears rolled down her cheeks. I knew she was right, I just didn't care.

"Yeah, so?" I muttered back at her.

She shook her head and wiped her eyes, "What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to hurt someone or yourself? Are you trying to kill our baby?"

I felt rage then.

"Our baby?" I screeched. "I'm the one carrying this baby! I'm the only one looking after it--"

"You're killing the baby!" She screamed at me.

The room blasted into silence. We stared at each other, even when a nurse came in.

"Is something wrong?" She asked worriedly, "I could hear you all the way down the hall."

"We're having an argument," Perry said, her eyes still locked with mine, "my daughter is being stubborn, leave us be."

The nurse left after that; we still didn't break eye contact.

"I'm not your daughter," I seethed, "you don't even like me."

"You became my daughter as soon as my son married you," she muttered, and then shut her eyes. "This baby is our baby, our family's baby, Angelus."

"So what? It doesn't even matter anymore, John's not here, there's no point--"

Perry cut me off, "I want to shake you!"

I closed my mouth tight, only looking at her.

"John wouldn't want you to give up! He wouldn't allow you to do this to yourself, or harm the baby," she pleaded these words angrily at me.

"Well John isn't here anymore--"

She came over, shutting me up, and sat at the side of my bed, "You're mad at him."

"Of course I am," I spat, "he left me here alone! He died and I'm all alone! He doesn't care, cuz if he did, he wouldn't have given up and just died!"

She grabbed my hand tight and securely in hers, "Angelus, John didn't do this to us on purpose. It was an accident, he was...his body wasn't able to withstand the injuries. It wasn't his fault."

That's when I truly broke down. I cried and sobbed, I didn't scream, I only cried. I could barely take a breath, Perry was holding me, she patted my back and cried with me. It truly felt like my life really crashed down around me.

But it didn't hit me that John was dead. Not yet, any way.
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I don't think I'm writing this the way it should be written. I took my time, but at the same time, I wanted to hurry and get this out the way. There's not a lot of Pete in this, so that's what I'm trying to get to. The next few chapters will be said, but Pete will be in them more than he has in the whole story.

Oh, and here is an article about the van accident if you guys wanna read it

Thank you guys for the comments and condolences, I appreciate them, and you