Soccerchic Scribblings

a random piece of fiction

I attended funeral preparations last week - even though it was raining out and large pellets of ice were bouncing against the pavement. It was one of those miserable days that made you want to stay inside and sit in front of a blazing fireplace. But fireplaces where things of another day, for it was just me by myself completing this task - the way it was suppose to be. After all no one else could afford taking the time off work.

As I began my assent up the cold cement stairs into the funeral home, a pit formed within my stomach and I shrank from the task before me. I really wanted to leave this place and return some other day, when the sun was shining and the world seemed brighter. For funeral planning is a depressing chore really. Everything had to be precise, it was the least I could do really.

I chose a black coffin - because it reminded me of your eyes when they were in a different world dreaming of great things, and one single black rose for the flower that was to be placed in your hands. Even though the soloist happened to be such a lovely little lady - I turned down her offer to sing, for there would be no words at your funeral - there was nothing to say, your life said it all - anything else would seem cheep somehow.

The afternoon dragged on as I finished the final touches, all the while remembering your death. It wasn't really a death though - it was plans for a death that would come, any day now. It wasn't hard to decide where to bury you; rather it was hard to make the decision to let you die. It was odd that way, how you obviously had passed - the rigor mortis has attacked your body - yet you were still alive. I could see you breath when you thought no one was looking, with a slight smile on your face as if you were keeping some grand secret from me. Perhaps how you had stared death in the eyes and unblinkingly fought back, or maybe that you were so much better then me because even in the end you could smile and laugh. Whatever it was, it seemed like a good way to die - smiling bravely.

My task here is almost done, and I will leave the funeral parlor. There is finality in this place, and I think that is what scares me the most. Knowing that once I walk through the doors they will take your body away to be readied. For that day, in a few days when everyone will come and gawk at you. It seems cruel to me, that it has to be that way, but there is nothing I can do - for you have smiled at fate and welcomed it, and I have to go because that's the way things work

posted by Adventures of a Girl @ 9:52 PM