Vial Happiness

Chapter Fifteen - Funeral

The mirror showed a different person. There stood a sixteen year old boy, who has experienced more in the past two months than most people in a life time. He held a stern face, which was once home to an ignorant smile that should have stuck. If I could only switch places with that man, maybe things would have turned out different.

            Brianne walked in wearing a black sundress. “You ready?” She asked.

            “Yeah, I’ll meet you outside in a second.” She left and I looked back at the reflection. I placed my hand on the mirror, and he mimicked the action. I took a deep breath, and walked away.

            I made my way outside and Brianne and I began walking to the cemetery. We could see the path made for everyone attending the funeral, each car following the one in front blindly.

            “Are you going to say anything at the funeral?” Brianne asked.

            “What do you mean?”

            “If they call you up to speak, will you say anything about yesterday?”

            I hadn’t thought of that. “I don’t think so, they wouldn’t believe me anyways.”

            “You’re right.”

            We soon made it to the cemetery where smiling people got out of their cars. As we entered the front gates, I saw Mother in front of the church crying hysterically, and no one was there to console her. Brianne and I walked into the church, ignoring her.

            A man in a black, aged robe with a bible stood by the entrance. “Welcome, we are sorry for your loss.” He must have been the Priest.

            In front of the pedestal was a coffin, and it was obvious who was in there. We walked up to it and waited in line for the others to give their respects.

            Soon it was my turn. I kneeled down, took a deep breath, and looked at the lifeless body that was Father. His skin was ghost white, besides the purple bruises covering his face. My throat suddenly felt tight, this was a new experience for me. I felt sadness many times before, but something felt oddly different this time.

            I tried to say something, but nothing came from my mouth. It didn’t matter anyways, he couldn’t hear me. I knew I had to get up for the others, but I didn’t want to leave. Part of me wanted to hold his hands. Father’s voice echoed in my mind, the memories we had flashed by.

            I took a deep breath and got up, Brianne placed her hand on my shoulder and I walked to an open seat. Brianne followed a bit later and we held hands. Everyone gave their respects and sat down. The Priest walked onto the stage and got on his pedestal.

            “Good morning everyone,” He began, smiling vibrantly. “A few weeks ago, a man by the name of Butch left our world. He was a caring man who always put his family first.”

            I slowly voided the Priest’s voice out of my mind, and thought of father. Thought of his death, thought of the cause. Those bruises, intended.

            “Would anyone like to speak now?” The priest asked the crowd. A few relatives of mine went up, including my Uncle Jeffrey, Aunt Linda, and cousins. Mother was a few seats to the right of me, she did not stop crying.

            “And is there anyone else who would like to speak?” After a few moments of silence, Mother got up and walked to the pedestal.

            “H-Hello.” She made through her sobs. “Butch was a great man. H-He was the love of my l-life. I do not know why he was t-taken from me, but I do believe that in some way, shape or, f-form, the reason was good.”

            The reason was not good, the reason was corrupt. I grew angry as the speeches continued, I couldn’t stand the ignorance. When Mother got off the stage, I stood up. The Priest backed up again and I walked up.

            Everyone besides Mother and Brianne were smiling widely, they didn’t show any sadness for this.

            “Hello,” I began. “Butch was not only my Father, but my friend. He was an amazing role model. I always have, and always will want to be like him. Although, I wish I could agree with my mother, that his death was for some good reason.” I paused and took a deep breath.

“But the truth is. He did not die for a good cause.” Some eyebrows in the audience raised, I was about to do this. “You all know the man Caesar Macklin, yes?” Many muffled yeses came from the crowd.

“He is the reason why my Father is dead.” No one reacted, besides Brianne and Mother, they gasped in shock. “I know you don’t understand this now, but I somehow hope you all remember this. He called me last night and told me personally that he had a man cause the accident. None of you understand this now, but please remember this name. I discovered that this man killed my Father, on purpose. Daryl Dixon. Daryl Dixon murdered my Father.”

I got off the stage and sat back down. Brianne looked at me and whispered, “When did you find that out?” “Yesterday night, I looked into the report.” I replied.

The Priest returned to his pedestal and made the final remarks. The crowd stood up and started to walk out. The other men and I walked up to his casket, closed it, and lifted it. The weight was surprisingly heavy, even with the extra help.

As we began walking, Mother came up to me.

“Prescott, there’s something I need to tell you.” She said muffled.

“Go ahead.”

“There’s a Daryl Dixon on the list of who is here.”