@effymccall // closed plotted starter
Scott looked at himself in the mirror, tightening his blazer and slipping the button through. He didn't even RECOGNIZE himself. The face staring back at him was so DULL, so empty of life. It was such a stark contrast to the positive, bright person he was just a week ago. He tries not to think about it as he heads out the door, not wanting to be late to his own father's FUNERAL.
Who would even show up? Obviously his mother would be there, Stiles, maybe even the sheriff. He wondered if Effy would come, and if she did, which Effy she'd bring with her. His sister was unpredictable, wild and free. He hadn't seen her since they were kids, when his parents split, but he kept in contact through social media enough to know she had fallen in with the wrong crowd. It concerned him. He was WORRIED about his sister, and had tried to reach out to her countless times over the years, but every message he sent was read and never responded to. He thought maybe a part of her BLAMED him, for not speaking up, not protecting her. Maybe he blamed HIMSELF, too.
He's dazed as he drives to the cemetery, lost in thoughts of regrets and memories. Honestly, he probably shouldn't even be driving in his current state, but death demanded his presence.
His knuckles are white as snow when he rolls up into the gravel lot, watching a collection of people gather in the distance as he parks his car and pulls the keys out of the ignition. Chestnut eyes stare back at himself in the rear view mirror, wrought with emptiness.
Okay. Let's do this. He thinks out loud, letting the words leave his lips in a sigh. This was the last thing he wanted to do. The emotional effort it took to talk to all these people, greet them, thank them for their condolences. He swore it would be the death of him. All Scott really wanted to do was to go home, curl up on his couch with a bottle of rum and SCREAM until his throat was bloody. But for now he had to suck it up and deal with it, and be the picture perfect son.
The car door slams behind him as he heads toward the area of the ceremony, taking in the faces, both familiar and unfamiliar, skimming the crowd until his eyes make a dead stop. Effy. She showed up. He was half stunned, his feet CEMENTED to the soft grass as he watches his sister walk toward him, a little bounce in her step.
"Effy, it's good to see you," he says as if he hadn't been dreading this moment, "I've missed you," at least that wasn't a lie. Scott wants to go in for a hug, but it's been so damn long since he's seen her let alone spoken to her that he second guesses his instinct, shoving his hands in the pockets of his dress pants.
