Chapter Eight: Lara Langston

Dominica's good friend from high school is murdered.

One month before we left for the trip to Washington, D. C., I received a call from Avery on a Sunday afternoon, in the early part of July of 1994. He told me that his girlfriend Dee Dee didn't usually purchase newspapers. However, that particular day she was bored and decided to purchase one from the newsstand for the sake of having something to do with her time while she was on her lunch break at work. While skimming through the paper, the article pertaining to Lara Langston caught Dee Dee's attention. She recognized the name of the school Lara attended, in that Avery had told her what high school he and I graduated from, when they first met. Dee Dee asked my brother if he knew Lara, as she showed him the article in the paper. So it was then that he decided to give me a call. "Dominica, do you know a Farrah Langston?"

"I know a Lara Langston, but not a Farrah Langston. Why do you ask?"

"Uh. Wait a minute. I meant to say Lara, but I said Farrah, because on my lunch break, a friend of mine and I were talking about the Charlie's Angels show, and I had Farrah Fawcett on my mind. Lara Langstan is dead." Avery said tactfully.

I felt light headed for a moment. My hands were shaking as I held on tight to the receiver. I couldn't beleive it. "Na Uh. You're just joking. And if this is your idea of a joke, Avery, it isn't funny." I said abruptly.

"Dominica, I'm not joking. It's in today's paper. She was murdered in Florida by her boyfriend. He stabbed her once in the chest and he also slit the right side of her face. According to what it states in the article, he committed suicide after he killed her, by hanging himself on a tree not too far from there their apartment was. I'll bring the article down to you after work, along with the obituary which states the funeral information.

The funeral was scheduled to take place on Friday of that week. On Thursday of that week, folks could pay their respects at the funeral home, sign the book and meet Lara's family. Throughout the course of time leading up to the funeral activities, I looked at my yearbooks and read the last message Lara wrote in my high school senior yearbook. It stated: "I'll see you later." I never once anticipated that "later" meant at her funeral. I drove to the funeral home with my Aunt Doris and Grandma Feldman. We took my car, and I did the driving, even though Aunt Doris insisted I let her do the driving. My aunt and grandmother were afraid to have me drive, because they didn't believe I was in any condition to be driving. When we walked inside the funeral home, I was kind of nervous, because I didn't really know anybody. I signed the book out in the lobby areas and was hesitant about going into the room where Lara's body was. I went into the room and looked all around at the strangers there. I then went up to the casket. I thought to myself. Okay. I'm here at a funeral home. There are lots of people. I'm gazing down inside a casket. This is a body. Not just any body, but Lara's body. I then walked out of the room, becasue I felt so ashamed of myself for not knowing who her parents were, in that I had never been acquainted with Lara's parents. I also didn't know what to say to the people. i quickly walked out of the room and went into the lobby area where my aunt and grandmother were waiting for me.

"Dominica, that was a little quick, don't you think? Honey, you didn't even put your poems into the casket yet, or your little icon pin you brought with you of Saint Stelianos (the Greek Patron Saint of children) on it. Did the girl's family tell you not to put anything in there?" Aunt Doris asked in a gentle tone.

"No. I just walked inside, looked around at the people and then I looked at Lara's body that lay in the casket. I walked in as quickly as I came out, because I didn't know anyone. I'm not sure who hr parents are, Aunt Doris." I responded while trembling.

My grandmother suggested that I introduce myself to the girls who stood by the entrance of the room. "Maybe the young ladies will tell you who Lara's parents are, and then you can ask if they are allowing folks to put items into the casket."

I introduced myself to the three girls standing by the entrance of the room, just as my grandmother suggested, and I offered my hand for a handshake. "Hello. My name is Dominica Moore. I went to school with Lara from the 6th grade all the way thru high school. I just want to let you know that she was the first student to befriend me when I was a new student to her school, when I was in the 6th grade. I like her very much, and I miss her greatly."

One by one, the three girls shook hands with me and then hugged me tight. The four of us were deeply moved. The one girl of the three introduced herself and the other two girls. "My name is Crystal. I am the cousin to Lara and to the two girls who stand here next to me. They are Lara's sisters Jessie and Mary. And on behalf of our family, I'd like to thank you so very much for coming. If you'll come with me, I'll introduce you to Lara's parents and step parents, along with the rest of the family, and to the parishioners who go to our church."

I walked inside the room with Crystal and Lara's two sisters. Crystal introduced me to Lara's mom Mrs. Lori Little and then introduced me to Lara's father and step parents, after they finished talking with some guests who came to pay their respects to Lara. "Aunt Lori, I'd like you to meet Dominica Moore. She is a friend of Lara's from school."

"Ma'am. I'd like to say that I know how it is to lose a loved one to death, because for one thing, my mother's cousin was murdered last year around this time when he was carjacked. Also, I'd like to let you know that my brother Jake died at the tender age of seventeen in November of 1988. I not only sympathize with you, but I also empathize with you all. Losing Lara for me is like losing a family member." I said in a trembling voice while pushin back my tears from my eyes with my hands.

Mrs. Little opened her arms, pulled me close to her and held me tight while teary eyed, and said, "I just have to give you a hug, sweatheart. Not only are you eloquent, but you know the right things to say. Out of everyone, your words you expressed just now are the most comforting."

I then asked her if she allowed folks to put things into Lara's casket, as I showed her the momentoes I brought to contribute.

She was so delighted that I would want to and said, "By all means. In fact, we can even pin your beautiful religious pin on Lara. We can also place you beautiful pieces of poetry in a spot where no one will steal them. Thank you so much for thinking of her."

The following morning, I attended the funeral service for Lara, with Uncle Davis who drove me there, because I was in no condition to be driving. I was full of tears and had a heavy heart from the previous night. When Uncle Davis and I arrived at the church, we walked up to Lara's casket, which was placed agaisnt the wall on the right side of the vestibule, and paid our respects. I placed a beautiful silver cross in the casket, wiped my tears away with my hands and stroked her slashed cheek with my moist hand while cleansing away my pain.

Crystal gave the eulogy. She talked about the kindness Lara bestowed upon others, and how she never stood for any injustice brought agaisnt any human being or any creature. Evidently, Lara had planned on getting married to her boyfriend. Not only that, but Lara loved horses, loved life, and belileved in living for the moment and living life to the fullest extent. Crystal mentioned Lara's devotion to her family, to her church, and to her community.

Uncle Davis and I followed the long line of cars to the cemetery where Lara was put to lay in her final resting place. I struggled to hold back my tears, but they just wouldn't stop. I finally broke down when we got into the car to follow the funeral procession back to the church for the reception. Uncle Davis and I left the funeral procession to stop off at a bakery to get some pastries.

We mingled with the rest of the guest at the reception, and then presented the pastries to Lara's parents and step parents. From there, Uncle Davis drove me home to Grandma Feldman's where I continued to sob while rocking mysef back and forth on the on the bathroom floor. My soul was draped with my nervous breakdown. There had been too much death, misery and sadness in my life. I just couldn't take it anymore. That same night, while I was half asleep, I heard a familiar voice that said, "You have to give yourself a chance to heal." When I was conscious, I realized that it was Lara conversing with me from beyond the grave. It was at this time that I started writing the first draft of my novel The Long Stretch.

Writing the novel inspired by my own life was the hardest thing I ever had to do. With every word I wrote there was a serrated sensation of swords ripping my soul to shreds, and a bomb bursting my heart into flames. It took me approximately six months to write and complete the novel. For every day it took me to write it, I had several nervous breakdowns that came at intervals, because the depression I accumulated all those torturous years had crippled me to the point of making me want to destroy myself and to take my own life even more than ever. After every so many words, I would stop and take a break and cry hard while sitting on the wooden floor of my bedroom, rocking myself back and forth. Blood from my nose dripped all over the floor and also dripped onto the knees of my jeans.

Author's Note

What do you think of the dialogue and the prose?

Reviews

[Lyndie Bolt aka JustRac..]

This chapter should be placed before the 2 previous ones dealing with the Washington trip. The girls dialogue seems unnatural. If this Lara mean something so special to Dom why hasn't she seen or talked to her in 5 or more years? Seems so strange for her to be so emotional about someone she hasn't had any connection with in so many years.

This paragraph: "Ma'am. I'd like to say that I know how it is to lose a loved one to death, because for one thing, my mother's cousin was murdered last year around this time when he was carjacked. Also, I'd like to let you know that my brother Jake died at the tender age of seventeen in November of 1988. I not only sympathize with you, but I also empathize with you all. Losing Lara for me is like losing a family member." I said in a trembling voice while pushin back my tears from my eyes with my hands.


rewite: "Ma'am. I am so sorry that Lara is gone, and I'd like to say that I know how it is to lose some one you love." I said in a trembling voice. "I lost my brother Jake after a hit and run and a cousin was murdered last year in a carjacking. I not only sympathize with you, but empathize with you. Lara going is like losing a sister." I whispered to her while trying to stem the flow of tears with both hands.