I didn't mean for it to happen, I swear I didn't. Me and Lanie and Nate just wanted to see the body before they put her in the ground. We wanted a private moment with her before the big shebang. We live in a small town and it wasn't too hard to sneak our three selves into the morgue, especially since Nate's dad is part of the corpse cleanup crew and Nate has sticky fingers.
We were creeping through the halls, hardly making a sound besides the quiet squeak of rubber shoes on spotless tile flooring. I knew there was no one to hear us anyway—no one living that is.
All I could smell was this yucky chemical tang that stuck to the back of my throat like glue. Lanie was hugging my arm tight, saying she didn't think this was such a good idea after all, and that maybe we should go back home, and wasn't it getting kinda late?
Lanie liked to wear a fake-looking emerald ring on her right hand that she swore up and down to anyone who would listen that it was real. Boy did I hate that thing more than ever as it dug into the soft flesh of my forearm.
I was so, so close to prying her eviscerating grip from my skin, but I didn't say anything; I knew she was just scared. She was having second thoughts about seeing our sister like that, I think. You know—not alive.
Nate shushed Lanie as us three crowded around a large metal door labeled 'PROCESSING'. He grinned at us as he whipped out his father's plastic keycard; it was an odd grin, as if he didn't know if he should be smiling or not. I suppose my returning smile was much the same as his. Smiling just felt wrong somehow; like how could we still smile when the dead couldn't anymore? When Cassie couldn't?
Nate took a shaky breath and turned back to the door. He slid the keycard into the slot and the small red light by the handle flipped to green with a pleasant chirp. Nate started pushing the handle and opened the door a crack, but paused and looked at Lanie and I.
"You guys still want to do this?" he whispered.
"Yes," we said simultaneously.
Nate just rolled his eyes and muttered, "Triplets."
After a pause, I saw his eyes go wide as he realized what he said.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"
"It's fine," I said, blinking down at my shoes, Lanie giving my arm a squeeze before she finally let go.
Nate was still blubbering apologies, but I didn't hold it against him. After all, he'd lost someone too. I always thought that Nate and Cassie would get married one day. We all did.
I rubbed a fist against my eye angrily, pressing until I saw tiny spots of color behind my lids. "Let's just go inside, Nate," I said, looking up at him. "Cassie's waiting for us."
At my gentle touch, the door swung silently open. I knew I was eating my words when I hesitated at the threshold. An icy wind blew from the dark interior of the morgue, curling around my neck and licking down my spine. I shoved down the feeling of foreboding, along with its accompanying shiver, and stepped into the room.
I felt along the wall for a light switch, not so much hearing as sensing Nate and Lanie enter behind me; this room seemed to swallow sound and the world seemed muffled with such an absence of noise.
"H-hey, Kristi," Lanie whispered. "I think I found the light."
The morgue walls ate up Lanie's voice hungrily, leaving us in too much silence again. I heard a sort of winding noise before the lights flickered to life, too intense for such a small space. I had to give my eyes a moment or two to adjust before looking around the room.
There was a small sink along one wall, along with a large tub surrounded by various bottles and chemicals—I didn't want to think about what it was used for. In the center of the room were two metal operating tables, far too clean-looking for what they were used for. A small wheelie cart covered in a bunch of sharp tools rested in between the two tables. None of this caught my attention for more than a second though; my eyes were instead drawn to the far wall.
