[TIFFANY KEIRA MATTHEW]

It didn't feel real. The past few days had felt like a blur, a dream. But here she was, wearing black and hiding out in the pool house floor with a six pack of beer rather than represent the Matthew family at her father's wake in the main house. She couldn't do it. Not yet at least. Tiffany's eyes burned from crying, red and puffy as she kicked back a sip of her beer as she stared at the succulent on her table like it held all the answers in the world.

Her phone was off. Pointedly ignoring messages from Casper and Stephanie, even worse, she was ignoring messages from her mom. God. I am such a fucking brat. Perhaps it was because towards the end, her father and herself started seeing eye to eye. They started mending their relationship being stuck with each other for hours on end when she was the designated caretaker to give her mom a break. And then, he had to go and fucking die. The cancer had robbed her, and now Tiffany didn't know how to manage her feelings between hatred and forgiveness.

There was a wrapping of knuckles on her door, "Go away!" Of course though, nobody listened to her as the door pushed open. Hadn't she locked the door for privacy? As chocolate brown eyes looked to the intruder, it became clear to her that there had been a a key, "I'm not going in there, Brad." And her older brother wasn't going to change her mind

october 2024 • outfit • BRADLEY OSCAR MATTHEW

thanks aofie!

[BRADLEY OSCAR MATTHEW]

The site of death lingered around the Matthew house. Brad didn’t know if it was the grief, or it was the reality that made the air feel stale. Almost hard to breath in without the feeling of dryness or the need to choke. He passed, peacefully, thank God. The bloke put up a good fight until the very end. Brad was sad that his father died, but thankfully his mother with there for his last few breaths. She broke the news when Brad and Tiff came in the early morning for prework breakfast and coffee. Safe to say that no one went to work that day.

Their father insisted his body be donated for science, which their mother had a hard time dealing with. Maybe it was the tradition of having an urn or a casket being lowered. If it hadn’t been in the will, Brad knew his mother would probably ignore his last wish. In the end, the family planted his favorite tree, an Elderberry on the property over his favorite bench.

After the service, everyone gathered at the main house. Food was laid out, with dad’s favorite meals and drinks. As well as plenty of alcohol and other family friendly things. Brad watched as his sister slipped away, wishing he had the chance as well. He gave her a minute before grabbing two plates of food and using the extra key to get into her personal space.

“I’m not making you go,” he said, holding up the two plates he had made a mountain that balanced with ribs, corn casserole, sweet potatoes, and dinner rolls. “I unfortunately couldn’t bring the rum and cokes.” Brad placed the plates down on her table before taking a seat. “I wasn’t expecting as many people to show up,” he admitted.