The Chronicles of Emma Josep

Familiar faces bring back the past

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I tried to be energetic, I really did. But, I keep hearing her, seeing her, smelling her. I was her best friend. We both planned our weddings when we were ten, we wanted to marry 2 super hot twins and have 1 child each so they could be best friends. I guess not now.

When Sean came over he had to discuss the funeral with me. I had to write a eulogy, and I was trying now. I have this so far.

Sara and I were inseparable. I met her when I was 5. When someone you've known for that long is gone, you feel empty. I try to think of it as a good thing, to celebrate her life. But she lived for such a short time, it's extremely hard to be happy. She shouldn't have died so young, but god has a plan for us all, and hers was just a little less time. I am so happy I met her, she was like a little ball of sunshine, and I love her and I am just so grateful she lived a short but full life.

I wanted to write that for the funeral, and I'm happy with that, but I also wanted to make one for just her, and it's hard. This is what I have on that one. Dear Sara, I miss you.

So yeah. Today's the funeral, and I still have to get ready. I put on a black dress with a polka dot design thing at my collar bone. (A/N: Picture of the outfit!) I put on chunky black heels, curled my hair, and put on the gold Locket Sara got me for my birthday.

I got to the funeral in my white Audi, taking deep breaths and counting to 3.

When I walked into the church, I saw a figure sitting in the back row, hunched and shaking.

I walked over to the guy an realized it was Rylan. I sat down next to him and patted his arm.

"It's going to be okay, maybe not so soon, but I promise you, it will," I promised him. "It's all my fault though, I was drunk and driving," he croaked, finally looking up. I saw tear streaks on his face, accompanying a lot of bruises from the crash. He had a broken arm and leg, and a pretty injured face.

He hasn't cried since he was little, I know because Sara spent hours talking about him. "The real question is; are you okay?" I asked. "Physically, no, mentally, worse than no," he answers, solemnly. I purse my lips and nod, "You'll get there."

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I tried to listen to the others read their eulogies, I really did. But I only heard voices everywhere, clouding my mind. Finally, it was my turn to share my eulogy.

I stood up, flattened out my dress and walked to the front of the church. I started by saying, "I didn't think I could do this-" and finished out my eulogy. I looked at Sara's mom and saw her crying, very hard. I also saw her husband comforting her and telling her it is ok. But it's not.

After the funeral, I drove home and sat on the couch watching The Interview. With a whole tub of ice cream.

*two years later

"Mom!" I screamed for the millionth time. "Can you please bring me a pencil?" I heard my mother snort from the kitchen. "You get yourself one," she laughed evilly and went back to chopping onions. "Ugh!" I yelled in her ear and grabbed one out of the junk drawer.

I've been doing my homework for the last hour and I got so aggravated, I snapped my other pencil in half. It was mechanical. You can tell I'm not fond of school. Well not anymore at least. I used to love school. But at that time, I needed a change desperately. So, I became a cheerleader and partied. Too much, to the point where my mother had to knock some sense into me.

You see, I don't technically have a dad. I have a mom who didn't want a guy, but she wanted a kid. A sperm donor donated his sperm to my mother and she had me. There's really nothing to it. All I know is, my sperm donors name is Dan.