Ashes in March

Prologue

       

Do you know what I always found interesting? How different someone looks when they're dead. You know, all pale and purple and stiff and cold. Because essentially, they're just a plank of wood after they're dead.

God, that sounds fucking morbid. But have you ever really thought about it? How could someone go from looking bright-eyed and pulsing and alive to just a fucking plank of wood?

No? Well, I guess just us mortician's kids think about it then.

I'd been around dead bodies my entire life. We saw dead people, day in and day out, and to us, it never really mattered. Until it was someone that you knew, until it was someone that you loved.

***

"Hey, Ro?"

I sigh and push my phone between my ear and shoulder.

"What is it, Nick?" I ask, irritatedly. Jesus Christ, why did Nick always call me at the worst possible times? I was knee deep in physics homework and these goddamn graphs were beginning to spin and my eyes were starting to water.

I lean back and push the heels of my hands into my eyes, hoping to relieve the scratchiness but it only causes more colors to dance in front of them.

"It's just," he stutters, a usual habit for him. "I can't come home this weekend."

I groan angrily into the speaker. "Are you fucking kidding me, Nick?"

He sighs which means no, he's not kidding.

"You fucking know I can't work the Fredicks' without you, Nick," I say through clenched teeth. He'd done this to me three times in the past month, leaving me to work a funeral viewing by myself.

"Can't Ellen help you?" he asks quietly. I shove my fingers into my knotted hair, roughly pulling on a tangle.

"We just got three new dismemberments. So, no. She can't help me," I moan and fold my arm over my face. "I can't believe you're doing this to me again."

"I'm sorry, Ro. I just have a lot of stuff going on..." he all but whispers but I cut him off.

"You always have stuff going on! I'm doing stuff too, Nick! I'm about to graduate. But I don't get to just bail on mom and dad every time I have a physics test," I yell into the phone. My brother had gone to off to college about a year ago and ever since then, he's been distant. Never wants to come home and help and when he does, he's distant and bitter. It was getting on my fucking nerves.

"I know, but..."

"No. Just stop. I'm tired of hearing your bullshit. I'll just fucking work it myself," I hiss.

"I'm sorry," he pleads.

"Yeah, yeah. Just give me a call when you get your head out of your ass," I say and slam my phone on to the table.

And that was the last time I talked to my brother.