Confessions of a Bitch

Die, Bitch.

I crack my knuckles as the hymn plays and the sound of monotonous voices, fill the church. The coffin is stationed at the front of the room, surrounded by lilies form Kate, the town's florist. Mum stands beside me, trying her best not to cringe. It's a long call from her never ending playlists of Elvis Presley and Cyndi Lauper songs. Thankfully, the hymn soon draws to a close and I almost breathe a sigh of relief. Almost. We sit back down on the hard, wooden, benches as the priest stands on the podium and begins talking about life, starting from conception, to death. It's quite long, and it doesn't help the fact he reminds me of my year six French teacher, Mr. Patisserie. He was such a bore. The priest briefly mentions the fact Alyssa's body was found at the beach, with bullet holes on her slowly decomposing corpse.

I glance at Alyssa's parents. They sit at the front, staring absentmindedly at the photographs of their daughter beside her coffin, smiling, laughing and pulling faces. Too bad there are no photographs of her in year eight. That would have made me smile. Sarah and the plastic ducks sit behind Alyssa's parents, dressed in tight fitting short, black dresses and heels. I shuffle uncomfortably in my seat. This is the first funeral I've been to. Ironic, isn't it? Alyssa's funeral had to be the first funeral I had to attend, in my life.

The service comes to an end, and I quickly exit the church before the gossip begins once again, about Alyssa and Victoria.

I hate it how silence easily wedges itself between mum and I, as we make our way home. It's quiet... too quiet for my liking. Mum wants to say something. I can feel it. I suppose she says nothing because she's worried my fear regarding Victoria's fate will spin once again, into overdrive.

"That was a nice service," I say, turning on my phone.

"Yes, it was." Mum replies abruptly.

"Why did you make me go?"

She grips the steering wheel. "It seemed like the right thing to do."

"Since when did we start paying our respects to the dead?"

Mum pales. "Alyssa was your friend."

"And that, is a big, fat lie." I retort, as I tap my fingers on my phone screen, in a bid to unlock it.

"Look, I know that after your little argument in year eight-"

"It was more than an argument."

"She seemed like a nice kid."

"She was still a bloated fish, even when they found her decomposing corpse."

"Amanda!" Mum gasps. "Have some respect for the dead."

"Yeah; just like you did when your father died."

Mum slams hard on the brakes and I am thrown forward before being forced back onto my seat. "Amanda, what on earth is wrong with you?" she yells. For a moment, I'm frightened. The last time mum yelled at me, was in year eight, after my incident with Alyssa at school.

"No, mum; there's nothing wrong with me. What's wrong with you? You were the one who forced me to go to Alyssa's god damn funeral. You were the one who made me sit for over an hour in that church that stunk of old people and dentures, and it was you who said it would offer me peace."

"Amanda, shut up!"

"No! You know why? Because this is a mess, and I don't care anymore. My life is a huge mess and you don't seem to notice or understand. You live in your own little bubble with dad, pretending nothing's going on. Victoria has been missing for over a month now, and all you tell me, is that they'll find her soon. Well guess what mum? They won't find her soon."