I've gotten through the initial shock of Elissa. All of her brothers have stabilized in the hospital. The hardest things now is dealing with my mom's constant pitying looks, and Katie A. having no clue how to deal with me dealing with this and how she is resorting to making jokes and pretending that nothing's wrong (I can't handle it another day without snapping). Today on the bus, when I was barely talking, she stated that I looked depressed. I felt like yelling,"I FRIGGEN WONDER WHY." She just doesn't seem to get that life isn't bubble wrapped, and that inappropriate jokes can't be made about stuff like death.
On Sunday, Dad and I are catching a plane to Toronto and driving to Michigan from there. The funeral is on Monday, and we get a plane back on Tuesday night.
I've been to two funerals in my life, one in Kenya when the Davis' baby died three days after it was born, and last February when my great uncle Elmo died, a few months away from being 90. I'm kind of scared to go to this funeral, to be perfectly honest.
Currently, the books sitting on my desk are Looking for Alaska, Jane Eyre, and Mockingjay. In English class, we're nearing the end of Romeo and Juliet. Everything I read seems to remind me of things I don't want to think about.
Love,
-J-
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