WHEN SOMEONE DIED, FUNERALS WERE a necessity. For everyone I knew who passed on, their closest loved ones planned their funeral. Everyone wore black because we often thought of the color as death. Women forgot to wear their waterproof mascara and had smudges on their cheeks before the service even began. Young children sat with their parents, impatient and unaware of what was going on. It had not dawned on them that someone they once knew had vanished from their lives. People carried small packages of tissue to wipe their eyes and runny noses during the service, not wanting to get up to go to the church's restroom. The men usually held themselves together until they were alone. That was when they truly broke down.
The day of Jillian's funeral was a tough one. Olivia constantly ran around the apartment, saying something about her left heel missing. I remained on the sofa with my eyes glued on the black television screen. A bowl of cereal without milk sat on the sofa beside me and I put some into my mouth, chewing slowly. As much as I wanted to go, it would be a bad idea if I went to the funeral. Harry was going to be there and he obviously hated me. If I showed up, it was going to be just like the scene at the hospital. Although Olivia tried to convince me to go, I decided it would be best if I stayed behind. I told her I was going to be fine and she had absolutely nothing to worry about. She eventually gave up and went back to looking for her missing heel. I was thankful and I went back to looking at the blank television screen, wondering what was currently playing.
"Are you sure you haven't seen it?"
Olivia hurried out of her room and before I could answer, she disappeared into the kitchen as if it somehow magically appeared in there. I brought my knees up to my chest and nibbled on the inside of my cheek. A smile formed on my lips as she cursed under her breath and I heard something fall. I shoved some more cereal into my mouth as she came out of the kitchen, rubbing the side of her head gently. My assumption was clearly wrong and nothing had fallen. Instead, Olivia had hit her head on what I assumed was one of the cabinets.
She glared at me and then at the television screen, "You aren't watching anything."
"But I am."
"But you aren't. The screen is black."
"You don't see what I'm seeing?" I teased.
"You worry me, Evans."
"Have you not seen the show where the woman moved to Seattle to seek a better life and she ended up experiencing the worst stay ever? I mean, come on. She fell in love with a man who was happily devoted to a woman who enjoyed helping others. Now, she's dead and the woman is pretty sure the man hates her. Honestly, she should just sit down and write a novel about her life. Everyone would buy it. I bet a nickel and," I stuck my hand between the sofa cushions, "a small piece of lint."
"Stop talking about yourself in third person."
"I never said my name. I could be talking about another woman whose life is screwed."
"Come to the funeral with me."
"No."
"Then shut up and help me find my shoe."
"Wear a different pair of shoes. Why wear heels to a funeral? I'm sure you're going to be doing a lot of standing around."
She pulled at one of her curls, "You think so?"
"I know so."
"Okay," she sighed. "I'm going to wear my flats instead. I really wish you would come with me and show some sort of moral support. I did let you move in with me, after all."
"Are you trying to guilt trip me into going?"
"Why? Why do you ask?" she leaned forward a little. "Is it working?"
YOU ARE READING
Candles
Fanfiction[C O M P L E T E D ✓] They were curious. They both had their own share of secrets. He was a man living in the present. She was a woman living in the past. He was a candle, ready to see everything she was keeping in the dark. And she was the w...
