Cultured

Chapter 6 | Within This Coffin, Lies...

Azalea: "I guess the next big thing was probably the funeral. Hunter said that was one of the saddest days of his life—I felt so bad for him."

Hannah: "Me too, Azalea. I'm still in shock that so much was going on behind the scenes. It was almost like the funeral was one big cover-up."

Alex: "We lived in one wacked-up town; that's for sure."

Hunter Thomas Singleton:

When I finally heard the news that Friday night, I was broken. I sat dazed and silent—unable to even think, let alone move—for hours on end before my dad told me it was getting late and that I should go to bed. But how could I sleep when my whole world felt like it had stopped spinning?

The woman who birthed me, nurtured me, who'd taught me so much about love and respect...she was dead, never to be resurrected. Never to live and laugh again, never to smile at me as I came home from school, never to share with our family in the joys and sorrows of life. Never to do any of the things that every true mother longs for.

She was forever gone.

****

The funeral was held the day after Labor Day, when authorities had officially identified the body and issued a press release. To all the family who came to commemorate my mother's life, I must have looked awful. I hadn't slept more than three hours on any given night of the past seven days. My eyes were so bloodshot that my irises looked purple, and the bags beneath my eyeballs sagged like weighty folds of fat.

But for once, nobody seemed to really care about the way I looked; everyone was either heartbroken over my mother's passing or hurting awfully to see me like this. As I stood alone and shiftless among the crowd, I hazarded a gaze throughout the room, searching for any friendly face I could find.

"Hi, Hunter," came the low and humble voice of Hannah from behind me. "I'm so sorry about your mom." She paused. "If it helps, all the pictures I've seen of her are absolutely beautiful." She smiled weakly as I turned to her. "I guess now I know where you get it from."

"Well, he definitely doesn't get it from his dad," came a meek but sarcastic drawl.

I gave a small grin. "Hey, Azalea."

She embraced me in a warm, gentle hug as she drew closer to where Hannah and I stood. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm okay," I said lowly. "I'm glad you're here."

"Hey, what about the rest of us?" Alex joked, stepping into view and casually wrapping his arm around Hannah's shoulder as she feigned shock at my comment to Azalea.

I laughed lightly, hesitated. "Thanks for coming, you guys. I really appreciate it."

"Of course, man," Alex said. "You know we're here for you."

"Always," Azalea confirmed, and Hannah nodded her head in agreement.

I lowered my gaze, smiling despite the anguish hanging all around me. "You guys are the best."

The rumbling plod of heavy footsteps sounded behind me, a hand falling on my shoulder moments later. "Hunter," my father's voice mused. "Rest of the family's sitting up front. Service is about to start."

"R-right," I shuddered, turning to follow my dad as he trudged to the front pew, the others close behind me.

My dad's younger sister sat to his right; beyond them, my mom's brothers sat closer to the pew's rightmost edge. Dad, meanwhile, was closest to the left, only one empty seat separating him from the midway aisle in the center of the room. On the row behind, I sat next to Hannah, Alex, and Azalea.