Song Shots

Everything's An Illusion by Mayday Parade

The pain was present, deep in the caverns of my chest, as I sat in the wooden pews that sat in rows in the church. Next to me, a man I'd never seen before was watching the front, a solemn expression on his face.

Did he even know him? Surely, not as well as I did. No one knew him like I did. No one else knew the thoughts than ran through his head at 3am or the songs he listened to when he was sad.

A man spoke in the front of the church, breaking me from my thoughts.

"We'd like to invite everyone to come and say they're goodbyes," the pastoral looking man said, his kindness making me irate. There wasn't a need to sugar coat this. He was dead, and he wasn't coming back. it was an unfair and cruel death, and the other person on the road walked away unharmed. Not a scratch, just a blip on his record for a DUI.

The row in front of me stood, everyone filing out and shuffling towards the casket. I stood, clasping my hands in front of me, taking slow steps towards the front. out of the corner of my eye, I looked around the crowd for faces I recognized. Sat in the front row were his parents, his mother was in tears whilst his father was comforting her, a hard look on his face. Before I walked to the casket, I stopped next to them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Stimms," I opened my mouth to try and say something, but the words refused to form. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice heavy with the tears that I wouldn't let fall.

"Thank you," his mom looked up at me. I turned to get back in line but his mother grabbed my wrist, stopping me. "just know that he loved you, alright, sweetie? He loved you and you were his best friend." I nodded, tears springing to my eyes. I couldn't handle this. The pain was too present and too new to sit here with all these people, half of which probably didn't know him.

I stood in the last spot of the line, making my way to the front. As the lady before me walked back to her seat, I stood a few feet away for a second. I took a hesitant spot towards the oak box, my eyes trailing down to my best friend's face, cold and lifeless.

"Oh my gosh, I closed my eyes for a second, whispering to myself. I grabbed his hand. it was cold and there was no response, no confirmation squeeze that there usually was.

"I'll miss you, buddy," I murmured, my thumb running along his knuckles. I placed his hand back where it was, after I had brought his hand to my lips and softly pecked the back of his hand. I patted it lightly, taking a deep breath. "Sleep well, my friend. I'll see you again someday." I turned away from the casket, walking down the middle aisle, continuing out the door. The darkness in my chest was slowly starting to expand and I don't know how long I'd he able to sit there, at my best friend's funeral, when it shouldn't even be him in the box, cold and dead.