It had been six months since Finnegan had proposed. I had been so excited when he kneeled down and asked me. My mother and father hadn't been as happy, but I didn't care. I loved Finnegan.

Mabel zipped up my dress. We had been best friends since 2nd grade. I slipped on my heels; I felt like an absolute giant. I tried doing a test run in the heels. Step-step-step-trip-step.

"How do people walk in these?" I yanked the shoes off.

"They just do." Mabel said in that motherly voice of hers.

I started to grab for my flats, my pretty, easy to walk in flats. Mabel stepped in front of me before I could reach them.

"Just try them again," commanded Mabel.

I reluctantly slipped them back on. I always intended to wear flats, but Mabel being my maid of honor, insisted I wear heels.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Twenty minutes till," answered Mabel.

When I had told my parents that I was going to marry Finnegan they threw a fit and said that they weren't going to pay for the wedding. Little did they know I didn't care if they paid for my wedding. You would think that after 20 years of knowing me that they would realize that I don't care about a big wedding, parties, and all the other rubbish they like.

"It's time." Mabel reported.

I stood to go. I had dreamed of this day, but now that it was here I couldn't stop shaking. I started to pin on my veil, but my hands wouldn't stop shaking. Mabel took the veil out of my hands. She pinned it perfectly on my head.

"Let's go," she beamed.

I managed a tiny smile.

The music hummed as Mabel and Eddie, Finnegan's best man, walked down the aisle. I swallowed, I was up next.

I grabbed my dad's arm and started to walk. Even though they wouldn't pay for my wedding they decided they couldn't miss it. I saw Finnegan standing at the altar. His smile was so bright, I had no idea why I had been nervous. I smiled too.

Bang! I spun around, the loud bang had come from the back of the church. I turned back around, to see my Finnegan on the ground. I ran to his side. A pool of blood was starting to form around him. The bullet had gone right through his chest.

"Finnegan, Finnegan," I whispered.

"I always loved you, Eponine."

I started to cry.

"Stay with me, won't you, until the end." Finnegan mumbled.

"Of course I will," I whispered back.

I could hear people moving around behind me, but I didn't move. I stayed with Finnegan. His breathing slowed, until it stopped. I swallowed, Finnegan was gone. I started to cry, I started to ball. Who could have done this? Mabel came to comfort me.

"It will be okay," comforted Mabel.

"No it won't," I hissed into Mabel's shoulder. I cried and cried.


It had been three days since Finnegan's death. The funeral was scheduled for four o'clock this afternoon. I hated to see him there in that coffin, his body cold and dead; but I couldn't not go. The cops had not found anything on who the murderer was. Who in the world would want to kill Finnegan?

Mabel buttoned up my black dress, and I adjusted her bow. She had been staying with me since the wedding.

"It's three already, we ought to get going," reported Mabel.

I adjusted my bow in the mirror, “Let’s go." I swallowed.


At the funeral, it seemed like it was on mute. Everybody was quiet, except for me I was dead silent. I couldn't manage to make a noise in front of Finnegan's dead body. Mabel and I paid our respects. My parents didn't even bother to show up. How could you not come to the funeral of your daughter's fiancé?

I stood in front of the coffin, but I couldn't look. Mabel said they had put flowers where the wound was, just thinking about that wound made me shiver. There had been so much blood.

"At least he's in a better place." said a woman.

"Definitely," agreed another.

"What do you mean?" I asked. It was the first time I had spoken since I arrived.

"Well, he’s in heaven, child," said the first woman.

"Oh, yes, of course." I mumbled.



After the ceremony Mabel and I went home. I had decided what I was going to do.

"Mabel," I said.

"Yes," Mabel answered.

"I know what I'm going to do. I'm going to wait for him." I said.

“What?” asked Mabel.
“I’m going to wait to die, so I can see him,” I explained.
“Wait?” Mabel questioned.
“Well, what is the point of living without Finnegan?” I screamed, starting to cry.

I moved in with my sister, Lorraine. Many years passed. I rarely left my bedroom. I couldn’t stop grieving.

“Eponine.”
I looked up from the book I was reading. Lorraine was standing in the doorway with tears in her eyes. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Mom passed away last night in her sleep,” she said through tears.
“Oh no,” I started to cry too. Although my mother and I weren’t close, I was still sad to lose her.
“She left a letter for you.” Lorraine handed me a letter.
I slowly opened it and read.


Dear Eponine,


It has been many years since you walked down that aisle, although to me it feels like just yesterday. For what I did that day has weighed heavily on my heart. As, you know, your father and I never approved of Finnegan. We made an awful mistake. We were responsible for the death of your beloved Finnegan. I hope you will be able to forgive me.






Love,




Mother

How could she do this to me. I never thought a mother could do such a thing.

It had been sixty years since I was supposed to be married; and twenty years since I learned my parents were responsible for Finnegan’s death. I finally thought I was nearing the end I had waited so long for.


The morning sun streamed in through my windows. Am I dead? I looked at the clock on the wall, 7:30. Lorraine would be bringing me breakfast soon. The door creaked open, and in walked Lorraine. Her face had an awful expression on it when she looked at the bed. I must be dead. I tried to stand up, the floor felt different. Lorraine started to cry. It was then that I looked down and saw myself, limp on the bed. Lorraine was bawling now and calling for her husband Mike. This is the day I waited for sixty years. This is the day I dreamt of. This is the day that I am reunited with my Finnegan.

“Are you ready to go?” said a voice in my head.

“Yes,” I said to the air.

“Close your eyes,” the voice said.
I closed my eyes tightly. The second I closed them I felt the air around me move as if I was on the wing of a moving plane. Was I in heaven?
“Finnegan,” I screamed. I waited, but nobody came. “Is he there?” I asked the voice.
“Of course not, he is dead, you're dead.”

I opened my eyes. There was nothing; no other side; no Finnegan, and I was dead.