Aurora

Chapter 4

The next couple days went by in a blur of waking up and staggering through the day. My grandfather went out every day to discuss matters of business that surrounded the upcoming funeral, whereas i just tried to ignore the fast that it would be on me in a matter of days. Me and Jessica kept up with each other through text, but even though I always loved talking to her, it was exhausting to interact, and as soon as I stopped talking I fell instantly asleep until my grandpa returning woke me up.

The day before the funeral, my grandpa took me shopping for an outfit to wear. I ended up settling on a black, floor-length silk dress and some short heels. The dress had delicate and flowery embroidery starting at the shoulder and going down the collar and arms with flared openings at the end of the sleeve. By all accounts it was a very nice dress. but I didn't know how often I would wear it.

The morning of the ceremony, I got up at 8:00, took a shower, put on the outfit I had bought. I swept my long brown hair to the side and pinned it there, but otherwise just let it hang in its natural waves. I put on some dark red lipstick that complimented my light skin and went heavier and darker on my eye makeup than I normally did, but otherwise went very minimalistic on the makeup like every day.I stood in front of the mirror and tried to put some reins on the dread I had about going to the funeral. Who would be there? What was expected of me?

Silence was a suffocating cloak that morning, and for the rest of the days before the funeral, numbing my my mind and emotions. The sadness was always one small step from my mind and around and around it circled like a wolf closing on injured prey. Its brothers, anger and fear, were also not far off. But even that seemed like a distant thought, not truly touching me. The only thing I remember fully was the silence, both in the rooms and in my chest.

Me and my grandfather waited for about half an hour in silence before he said it was time to go. We walked outside to see a limo waiting for us. The ride to the chapel was silent, neither me or my grandfather having words to console the other and each of us consumed in our own thoughts. I noticed on the way that my grandfather opened up the cooler many times to pour himself a glass of liquor. Almost as if he needed it give him strength. I had never seen my grandfather touch alcohol before. My phone buzzed in my lap, and I looked down to see I had gotten a text from Jessica.

"Hey, just confirming that I'm still welcome at the funeral,"the text read, "and also just check on how you're holding up.

"Of course you're still welcome," I quickly typed back, "and I guess I'm doing alright under the circumstances"

"Good, it's always ok to not be alright though."

"Thanks," I replied lamely, "you're a good friend."

She sent me a smiley face emoji and then I said I had to go and I'd see her at the service.

We pulled up to the chapel to see many others walking in. As we got out several faces turned and several people came to comfort us. They all offered the same careless condolences. Telling me how sorry they were, that I was in their prayers, that they understood how I felt. I stopped hearing those things; soon I learned how to tune them out.  There were also journalists and reporters from every station I could think of. So on through the throngs of people I walked, looking for Jessica. It wasn't until after i had pushed through the horde that still surrounded my grandpa that finally found her. By found I, of course, mean that I collided with her, causing to spill her glass of water and her plate of food onto the floor.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry Jessica," I stuttered out, "let me go get some paper towels out of the bathroom."

"Oh it's fine, and thank you," she said, bending down to try to do something about the mess.

I quickly walked to the bathroom to grab some paper towels. When I came back, Jessica had gotten most of the food off the floor and into the trash can. I knelt down and began to clean up the water. Once it was actually clean I stopped and actually looked at her, and she looked absolutely amazing. Her dark brown, almost black hair had been swept across her back to lay elegantly over one shoulder. Her makeup had decidedly darker tones, causing her eyes to shine out from her face. She was wearing a short black dress that only went over one shoulder and had a similar diagonal cut at the hem. She wore simple but nice looking shoes with very short heels. She wore matching earrings and necklace, silver and set with black stones. I don't know if they were fake but they were very nice looking. I felt almost jealous, except jealous wasn't right. That I admired her would have been closer, but even that wasn't quite right. I was taken a bit aback until she started speaking to me.

"Hey sorry I haven't been able to talk to you more, I've been packing to move."

"Oh really," I responded breathlessly. Why was I breathless? I had been standing still, "where are you moving to?"

"Me and my family are moving up to somewhere in Alaska. Bethel, I think, was the name of the city."

"Hey, my grandpa lives in Alaska. I don't know what city but at least it's in the same state." I stammered.

"Well that's cool, maybe I'll see you." She said with a smile.

"Wait," I asked realizing how unlikely this was, "why are you moving to Alaska?"

"Oh, my dad is in the military and they need us to move there, so we are."

"Wow, I didn't know your dad was in the military; that's cool I guess.

We talked about a few more things like school and what we had been up to, but after a few more minutes of conversation she seemed to get more sober, and she asked if I was okay.

"Yeah, I'm okay," I said, probably unconvincingly because Jessica did not seem to buy it at all.

"That's nice, but how are you actually doing," she quipped back, "because I know I definitely wouldn't be okay in your situation."

"Yeah," the words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them or even compose myself, "I'm really not. But I can't say that I'm sad, or mad, or upset, or anything else either. I just feel tired and numb. It feels like I should feel everything But I feel next to nothing. I just sleep and eat and hide in my room at the hotel and..." I stopped before I started to cry.

Jessica gently grabbed my hand before she spoke, "C'mon, the service is starting." And she led me into the main room of the church.

I only vaguely remember the service, but what I do remember I will never forget. I could hear the voice of the priest but couldn't tell you what he was saying. I remember the bodies of the men and women around me but couldn't make out their faces. I could hear their sobs but none of my own. I remember Jessica being there the whole time, her hand on mne in an attempt to comfort me. Eventually the service drew to a close and people began standing to walk by the caskets to pay their final respects. My grandfather and I were first since we were family. This time I was the one to grab Jessica's hand, a silent ask for her to come with me. I approached the caskets on the altar slowly behind my grandfather. The pit in my stomach seemed to become bottomless, gnawing at my whole being creating fear. I didn't even realize that I had stopped in my panic until Jasmine gave my hand a quick squeeze. My train of thought was broken as I turned to see her face giving me a supportive look that felt more sincere than anything else had so far. I choked down my nerves and walked forward once again.

The next steps felt like an eternity until I was right next to the caskets, where I was met by an image that will never leave from just behind my eyelids. The faces of my parents, their eyes glazed over and their skin grey will the pall of death. The place where a bullet had entered my mother's skull had been covered with a patch and not completely hidden by makeup. The faces of my parents stared unseeing at the steepled roof of the church's sanctuary. My eyes saw the death in their faces, but my mind spun and spun back in time to cruelly and wonderfully plaster every joyful, careless memory onto the forefront of my thought. With the rush of memories came a torrent of tears as, for the first time since arriving at the chapel, I began to weep. It began a mere tremble in the back of my throat and a quivering of my lips, but as tears streamed out i lost all control of my vocal chords. I let out a sob that was closer to a scream, and they just kept coming, one after the other as I crumpled before the altar. Jessica and my grandfather helped me to my feet and practically carried me out into the hall.