Not Just A Pretty Face

Chapter Seven

Author's note: So I am editing the start of this to explain more of this world, but I am also lazy so I will only edit it later!  Heh.

Basically all you need to know is that these cities they live in are surrounded by glass - they don't have contact with the real 'natural' world.  They're all pretty shelted.  It's similar to living in sort of compounds, so each city is a population of perhaps 20,000-100,000, and to get to other cities you need passports, papers, etc.  You cannot leave without permission or unless you're forcibly removed, which will, I promise, make more sense soon.  For reference, think of 'Under The Dome' by Stephen King, except every city is like that.  They do this to protect what is inside from outside, to keep resources, keep a non-polluted atmosphere, etc.  These people kind of live in things similar to a fishbowl, for some more reference - you can see things outside but you can't exactly go there unless you escape.  Basically, if you escape, you're dead, because people are so used to living in these types of environments that the real outside world is a shock to the system.

So that's the basic explanation, which will be explained further soon.  Also, this will be considered 'Part One'.  I will go and edit that in soon, and Part Two will be the later aspect of Dylan's life with new characters and an in-depth explanation of this actually horrible world she and her friends and family live in.  Just trust me on this, and enjoy the story!

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The coffin wasn’t heavy.  It was so small.  It was almost as if she just was not there, and perhaps part of me was wishing she wasn’t.  That she was just on a holiday and she’d be home soon.  Perhaps that was why I wasn’t really crying.  I still wanted to believe.

   Beside me stood Memphis on the other side of the white box.  I had chosen it white, and I had made dad spend a few thousand on real flowers, not the fake ones the government tried to make people use for these things now, thanks to their whole eco-stance.  This was my mother.  She needed real.

    Behind Memphis my two cousins to make up the left hand side of the pallbearers.  I took the right front, while behind me were two men I had never met – my mother’s brothers.  They had never been interested in this family, but I could tell both of them were so distraught by this.

   “We’re so sorry, Dylan,” they had both said, enveloping me in a hug.  The tightness of it from both of them made me wonder if it was to make up for seventeen years of none.  I had needed someone to cling to, so I had held them both.  They both apologised for us meeting in such a way, but I did not care – I was so glad they were there, and that they were going to be my true uncles from then on.

   I watched as people filed into the seats, and the Inbetween funeral director nodded and directed us in as the music played.  I felt numb.  I felt like I was just hovering between this world and some other place.  Was this really happening…?  Was it really my mother’s funeral?

   I was off in another world as we placed the coffin down onto the plastic block, making sure it rolled on properly.  Dad was already sitting in the front of the room, the section for families, a tissue box beside him.  Memphis guided me towards him and sat beside me.

   I must have been drugged before I stepped in here.  I could only fiddle anxiously with my hands, feeling sweat come up.  How was I going to use the tablet once I got up there?  My fingers were wet.  What if the screen was an old one and couldn’t recognise wet fingers?  What if I stumbled through the speech?  What if I missed a page, pronounced a word wrong?  Such trivial, trivial thoughts.  But I needed my last conversation with mum to be perfect.

   The person conducting the ceremony led us through the new prayers they had, the new beliefs.  I didn’t listen to them and I barely took part.  I felt maybe we should have had a funeral with the Old Religion – it was what she had belonged to.  But there was nothing I could do about it now.   I felt I should have maybe compiled some photos to play during my speech, but nothing I could do about that now either.