Blue

Funerals

             Funerals never made sense to me. My father had once told me it was a way for people to say goodbye to their loved ones but what was the point of saying goodbye when they had already left? What was the point of this when it would only make me feel worse?
   Suddenly, i was dragged from my thoughts by the noise of the front door slamming shut. 'fathers home,I thought, knowing this was never good. I smelt him before he even walked down the hallway; heavy liquor and cheap womens perfume. He came stumbling in my room, with an empty beer bottle clutched in his fist, blurry eyes, his collar buttons snapped open with smudged lipstick stains on the rim.
             My vision turned a slight hugh of red. How could he?!?! How could he do this to mother? After everything they'd been through, he couldn't stay sober just for her funeral??
   His eyes looked hollow, missing the shining brightness they once held. He looked older, his skin a slight yellowish color, showing just how much he'd ruined himself. He couldn't even look me in the eye. How disgusting.
  "You forgot, didn't you?" He finally looked up, staring, but not really seeing me. "No Caroline, I didn't."
"Then why?" He turned his eyes away from me, staring ahead. "I needed to forget"
  "Well did it work?", I asked
  "No.", he whispered, his face falling.
   I turned around putting my other earing in."Try and sober up a little, we need to leave soon", I whispered quietly before walking out of my room.
  "Im not going,Caroline." I froze. He couldn't be serious! "What?", I asked quietly. "I said im not going, Caroline"
"Yes, you are" I said
"No, i'm not, and that's final!" I looked away, knowing I wouldn't be able to change his mind.                      There was no use in fighting with him anymore. I quickly walked down the steps, making sure not to trip over myself. This wasn't about my father.
         This was about saying "goodbye" to my mother and nothing else.
  As I walked down the front steps, my brothers car pulled into the driveway. He got out of the car with a lazy grin on his face, that soon disappeared when he got a look at me. He knew. Of course he did. I couldnt keep anything from Carter, no matter how hard I tried. He just somehow always knew when something was wrong. He quickly came over to me, taking me in his arms and holding me tightly. I felt my eyes start to sting- a tell tale sign that I was close to crying.
  "What happened?", He asked
"Fathers not coming."
 "What do you mean hes not coming Caroline?!"
"Exactly what it sounds like- he's not coming. He came stumbling in the house, and told me he wasnt coming. I've tried convincing him. Theres no use."
          Carter grew enraged. He stormed in the house, a look of pure anger on his face. I waited for the screaming match that was about to ensue, but nothing came. Absolute silence. A few minutes later, Carter walked out of the house, with a glowering father behind him. His suit was crumpled, the tie hanging off his neck was loose and his hair was a mess. When he saw me, his eyes grew sad, a guilty expression soon taking place. I was the first one to look away, going to my car, and sitting behind the wheel of my convertible. Taking a shaky breath,I started the car and began my long drive to the cemetery.