Expectations

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Set up on the grass outside, there are five rows of pews between us. Probably to stop me and Axel from getting into it again. It's a closed casket service, out of respect. It's like I can almost see through the oak, to Chrissie's resting face, the skin so cold when I'd kissed her for the last time. The coffin is small, the same height as me. It would've dwarfed her. I hope she's comfortable in there with the extra headroom and foot space.

The cushioning looked soft.

They lower her into the ground, and I'm encouraged by my parents to say something. Getting the words out is hard. My nose is running and I can barely see the words on my paper as I speak. I can't feel my heart in my chest because it hurts so much.

"I love Chrissie. She'll always be my little sister. She shouldn't be dead. It's not fair. I will miss her all my life."

I finish, hands shaking, world blurry, and my parents both say their farewells through tears as well, and then the ceremony is over. People, faceless strangers to me, mill about us, offering empty condolences.

We add her favourite toys onto her casket before they begin to cover her up. I also give Chrissie my favourite book, even though I'll never be able to read it to her. The dirt thudding against the casket lid is the only sound for a long time.

When Axel approaches the grave, at first anger hits me. I'm rushing up to confront him, fury cutting through the sadness, ready to throw down again. But he's speaking, very softly, down to Chrissie. He sniffs as he speaks, and it causes me to hesitate. My steps slow, but I inch closer to listen in. I only manage to catch the end of it.

"...my sister, but you were the closest I had. This was for you, like always, like I promised."

After taking a moment, Axel releases something into the grave and then walks away to his parents who are also distraught, almost as much as my own. I creep hesitantly to the edge of the hole. Down there, amidst the growing mound of dirt, on top of the book I'd given Chrissie, is a crisp blue raspberry Warhead.

Just like me she loved sour things. I even remember the expression on her chubby baby face the first time she'd tried a lemon. Though for the past year or so, because of several cavities, she'd been banned from eating lollies. She'd taken the ruling with a peculiar grace, never throwing a tantrum or even asking for any. Mum and Dad had been proud.

Had Axel been sneaking her these the entire time?

"Hey, Lee, everyone's back up."

I blinked back the dream, or the memory, or the dream of a memory. As the world rushed back into focus, I became aware that the rest of the party were in various stances in a semicircle around me. They were waiting on me. I must've dozed off while we were letting Wren rest.

I stared for a moment at Axel. It still felt unreal that he was calling me by my name. He was squatting down beside me, the hand that'd shaken me awake mid-retraction. There were bags under his eyes. If I thought about it, those had appeared, and had never truly faded, after that day.

I'd forgotten that he'd loved Chrissie too. Axel and my sister never got along like me and her, but that didn't mean he hadn't cared about her.

After the funeral, prompted by Axel's actions, I'd dug up the remaining pack of Warheads I had.

A few weeks before everything, my parents had brought me that packet as a reward for getting good grades. They made me promise not to give any to Chrissie, and so I'd hid them under my bed and had been snacking on them in secret.

I told myself I would eat the rest for her.

Opening the remaining individual packets, one by one in preparation as if in ritual, I'd eventually broken down, sobbing that I was sorry for never sharing them. Thinking about Chrissie, tied to how helpless I felt and how useless what I was doing was, triggered my first ever attack.

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