A Phobia of the Deceased

Evading the Funeral

I am afraid of dead bodies. It is truly a topic for discussion amongst the strangers, or at least acquaintances, which I have spoken to about it. Having grown to be an adult, I get to witness many deaths, and get invited to many funerals. These funerals are something I had always avoided, for dead bodies, again, freaked me out. However, it is different when it's my friend's dad that had just passed away, so attending the funeral would have been impossible to evade unless I wanted to be portrayed as some heartless jerk by said friend. Then again, I did not want to observe whatever was left of this departed father.

I spent the few days after that planning. Purposefully getting sick was definitely an option. My life would have been made easier, as no faking was needed for that to work. However, it did feel cheap, so I thought a much more physical injury would help. I wondered whether anyone could volunteer to "accidentally" break one of my arms or legs, or twist one of my wrists or ankles. The legs seemed like they would have made a better excuse.

'Oh no, I broke my leg! I cannot walk. I am sorry, for I fear that attending your father's funeral would be impossible in this horrifyingly detrimental state I have found myself in.' That was what I rehearsed saying on the phone to my friend, and I was sure I could get by just fine.

Just in case, I kept thinking of a number of plans, such as being out of town on that day or just having joined a band, in which I played the bass, whose rehearsal was essential to our definite success. They, too, would make me look as if I were choosing something petty over such an important event.

In the end, I had nothing. The funeral day came so I got dressed in my fanciest of attires: a white shirt, with a waistcoat - which never should be worn without a tie, but I did not have an acceptable-looking one - along with the most expensive-looking pants (which were not actually expensive – I cannot afford that) and a coat. I felt awfully anxious.

The moment I got there, I knew that regret was the only thing present inside this temple of mine. I was late, which meant that I would have to wait even less for the point in the funeral where the body would be put on display so we could pay our respects.

I waltzed in sneakily, and sat down on the same row as my friend did, so that it would be obvious that I had shown up to this occasion, and that I was making an effort. It proved to be a rather good move, as the moment I sat down he waved at me, provoking me to wave back. Then, I had the greatest idea.

When it was rumored that the dead body would be showcased, I got up and pretended to go look for a trashcan outside, for I had just blown my nose and could not find one in sight.

Upon my return, I tripped on the carpet and yelled out that I had to go get balm for my leg and could no longer attend the funeral. My friend has not ended our friendship yet, thankfully.

served": �ۗK�