epiphany

I

MAY 1ST, 2021
12:05 PM.

"We gather here today to celebrate the life of the departed," The pastor waves his hands in dramatic gestures to further enunciate his words without actually using them. Zoe finds her eyes stuck on the corner of her thumb, at the bed of her fingernail. A spot of skin she had been prying at with the nail of her index finger since before this month began.

She's not lost in thought, nor is she tuned out from the white noise in the background; to put it plainly she can't bring her eyes to look ahead of her. Her eyes are wide, like she's been shot alive in the middle of the street. But they aren't swollen from tears, and she's not ridden with a ruby red tinted nose from endless snot and rubbing.

She's focused on the hangnail, and she can only think beyond how she's going to peel it from her thumb without drawing blood.

"Grievance. It's a word familiar enough to be unfamiliar. We hear of it, but not all of us experience it. We hear it on the bus, we hear it on the trains, it follows us on our way home, and sometimes even tailgates our cars." Somehow, some way, a short stifle of laughs ruffles throughout the audience, and for a singular moment the pain is forgotten- forbidden.

Not for Zoe.

She doesn't laugh, she doesn't let her lips curve up into a lopsided smile like the others. She keeps her eyes on her thumb, and feels her nail dig further into her skin as her movements become more rash and rough.

"But some of us, being luckier than others- never truly feel the engulfment of grief once in our lifetime. Unfortunately, but simultaneously fortunately- everyone in this room is experiencing grievance today. It's important to remember during times when grievance knocks you over sideways that what you feel is okay. Let yourself feel it. Let it tear you down, and swallow you whole and then spit you back out," He pauses, and takes a step towards the other side of the small stage to get a more wide range of his audience.

"And then let it heal you. The consumable suffering is the hardest part, but I promise you when you are spat back out, you'll start to heal. One day you'll feel it overtaking you, and then the next you'll realize that you feel different; lighter."

Zoe wiggles her nail deeper into her skin, and a crimson red spills out gently from beneath the pressurized pain she's applying ever so slowly.

"As I speak, the grievance is currently swallowing you whole. Feel it. Be brave enough to welcome it with open arms, and feel it all."

Zoe doesn't pause, but her body reacts to the bullshit he's spewing out of his mouth- and her knee twitches in the realization that he believes what he's saying will help people get over the loss of her.

"Madison was a friend, a best friend, a daughter, a girlfriend, a loved one... She was everything a parent could've wished their child could turn out to be."

Zoe's nail slipped, and she cut deeper into another part of her skin with minimal ill intention. Her relaxed jaw turns into a clench, and she froze her body with rage resonating in her bones.

"Today, we gather here to celebrate the life of the departed," The pastor speaks again, and Zoe feels the tip of her ear twitch at the irritation that enveloped her when his voice became audible to her.

"Today, we gather here to celebrate Madison Montgomery."

[ | ♌︎ | ]

AUGUST 19TH, 2020
3:07 pm.

"Nah, I'm glad summer's over." Zoe stuffs her hand into her jean short pockets, and feels her fingers prod briefly at a loose bill in her pocket.