Some Cheesy Title That Describes What The Story Is About

Danny's Box

03/30/17

I am about to go to the thing I thought I'd never live to see. Getting into the car was enough trouble and heartache, but driving and being aware of where I was going was worse.

Pulling up to the Foster's house was heart pounding. I stepped out of my pick-up truck in a black dress and converse, mouth painfully dry. I approached the small house, hesitantly opened the door, and went inside.

Walking into the all-too-familiar room was like drowning in a pool of weary sadness. I managed to drag my feet closer to the viewing area, feeling very choked up. I peered over the edges of the nicely decorated chest and covered my mouth in disbelief. Inside the chest lies my best friend, Daniel Lane Foster. My eyes began to sting with tears.

Danny, of course, does not look like himself at all. He looks very pale and wax like. His lips are more purple and blue than usual and his body leaves a cold, stale feeling in the room. He is dressed in a nice suit with his brown hair swept neatly out of his eyes.

I stared at him for a moment, trying to convince myself that this isn't real, that he isn't actually lying there lifelessly in that bland casket. As if he was going to come knocking on my door tomorrow like nothing had ever happened.

~~~~~03/31/17~~~~~

The funeral wasn't any less depressing than the viewing. I mean, there isn't really a way  to make your best friend's funeral, or any funeral for that matter, very enjoyable. The casket was closed at this event. After the funeral ceremony, some close male family members and friends of the Fosters carried Danny's coffin out to one of those long cars that carry coffins. Then the small crowd of people joined the Fosters at a nearby cemetery.

The clouds were close over head, but still had some sun showing through.
The group followed the coffin carriers to his burial. I stood at the back while some further words were said. After the coffin was lowered into the ground, the guests were invited to throw some flowers and rose pedals into the grave. Then an hour later, after everyone had thrown in their flowers, mourned with Danny's parents, and left the cemetery I walked over to the freshly flipped dirt where he now lies. And with tears welled in my eyes, I glanced down at the locket strung around my neck.

I slowly knelt down and carefully took the locket off and opened it. Inside is an old, goofy picture of me and Danny. Flashbacks of our many sleepovers, hang outs, and fun memories clouded my thoughts. I slumped over on my side and cried for my life, as all emotion struck my mind and body at once. I stayed there quietly sobbing until the sun began to go down. Then my older brother found me and drove me home, quietly weeping the whole way.

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