I looked down at my wrist and glanced at my watch. 11:47. Tomorrow was the day. The funeral. The day I would say goodbye, forever. I tried to figure out how long I had been in here. Standing, then sitting. Standing to look at her, and then sitting back down in my seat to cry my eyes out. I’m surprised though, by how few people actually came to the viewing.
It wasn’t that Clarabelle was unpopular or hated; I guess it was just that people didn’t know what to do when the girl they lived down the street from, or the girl in their first block, or the girl they saw at the park, killed herself. I guess when you think of it, a viewing is an odd thing. I mean, why would someone want to come and see a dead person. They’re already dead, there’s no reason to go see them, you’ve seen them before. I guess it’s part of the grieving process, having it sink in. Or at least, that’s what it was to me. Having it all sink in. I walked back over to sit in one of the chairs that was set up in the small room. I put my head between my hands and tried to grasp what was going on. I was all alone. Sure, I had other friends but none of them were Clarabelle. Suddenly the stillness of the room seemed to hit me becoming too much to bare. I could hear the clock ticking in the back, reminding me that as I continued living, she continued dying.. The clock started ticking louder and louder. It was so loud I almost wanted to start screaming. My heart started racing, by blood started boiling, the room started spinning, and my face felt like it was on fire. But suddenly, everything became still. Everything returned back to normal. The room stopped spinning and the clock went back to it’s quiet beat.
I put my head back in my hands and cried.
I don’t know how long I sat there, how long I cried, or how long I tried to convince myself that I eventually had to get up off this seat and go home for yet another sleepless night; just so I could get up in the morning to say goodbye, again.
I finally gained the willpower to get up off the chair and walk over to Clarabelle again. My steps were heavy and I kept my head down, focusing on the old white tile that covered the floor of the church hall; where the viewing was. I finally reached my destination and went through the same process as I had many times before. You would think that the process would get easier the more you did it, but it seems like it just got harder the more it sunk in.
I let out the deep breath that I didn’t’ know my chest was holding in. I looked at her peaceful face and then glanced down at the crown of wildflowers that I had been holding all night, unable to will myself to put it on her countless times; I made the crown myself out of flowers that were in the park. I looked back at her face and brought my shaking hands up slowly, placed the crown onto her head. I placed my hand on her cheek rubbing my thumb down her jaw. Then ever so slowly, I brought my head down to meet hers and kissed her lips.
I know, it’s sick, I’m kissing a dead girl. And it would have been even more sick, if she wouldn’t have kissed me back.
I quickly brought my head up to look at the two, wide, beautiful, brown eyes looking back at me. My jaw dropped, my head was racing and I swear my heart stopped.
“Clara-“ I started to say, my voice shaking. But I stopped immediately when she raised her hand and brought one finger to her lips, silently shushing me. She then gave her signature smirk, winked, then went back to her original position.
