Letters to you, Book 5 in Wingless Series

Carter Stettle

The hardest part about losing my brother was seeing him afterwards. I was most upset at his funeral. They say we are there to celebrate someone's life, who can really celebrate when we are saying goodbye?

I refused to participate in Marcus' funeral, I kept my eyes shut and my mind to the thought my brother was gone. I refused to accept, I tried to hold on while everyone around me was busy letting go.

It took a year to come to terms with the process, which was when I thought about my own funeral. I wanted nothing more than a celebration. Music, drinks the whole nine yards, I wanted it to be about life. I wanted to be the afterthought.

Being who I was Evan should have been the last person to ever come into my life and stay. He was what brought me to the miserable state I was in. And when I thought about that, he really was. His own hands took my brother, was I to blind to see that?

Kenny and I sat in a small parking lot near the park; I was terrified to look over my shoulder at the funeral home that Marcus was once in. But I promised to keep an open mind.

Clutching the door handle for dear life, I squeezed my legs tightly together at the knee. The anxiety overflowing to the point they were shaking.

"Whenever you're ready." Kenny urged staring at me, probably waiting for me to cry again.

"Ok, I think I am ready." I sighed.

Kenny gave me a nod getting out of the car. I did the same trying not to let my emotions overcome me. If I was to get anywhere near the door I needed a clear mind.

It was funny I thought, how the brain seemed to seize up when encountered by familiar memories. Then suddenly it jerked forward spewing forth a mixture of memories and adrenaline, it was a bit hard to swallow.

I went through the door that Kenny was holding for me, instantly reminded of the years before when I was there. The smell the exact same, a mixture of dust and flowers of all kinds, the small waiting area near the doors dimly lit offering the somber feeling you were never looking for.

I crossed my arms taking it all in, the bad maroon seating, and how everything always looked badly dressed. The way your grandparent's house always seemed to look every year for Christmas, or whatever holiday you visited for I thought.

There were two older women, and a young girl sitting in the holding room. They gathered in the front, heads down. It looked as if they were praying. I let my eyes blur over the casket settling on the young guy standing next to it, with an older man. His skin light brown, he was tall and sleek in a dark dress shirt and fitted blue jeans, His hands deep in his jean pockets.

"There aren't many people here." I whispered in Kenny's ear, taking notice his attention was pinned on the room and the same people I was staring at.

"Not everyone has a huge gathering." He responded watching closer, I stayed where I was waiting to hear what his plans were with these people.

I looked up again as the young girl let out a laugh, a laugh out of all things at a funeral. She touched the older woman's shoulder really enjoying whatever it was they were discussing. Her hair brown and full of curl, she was bronzed beautifully as if she spent her free time lying out on beaches, an exotic girl in her own right. Her hair delicately held back with a floral hair clip.

"Well I'll be damned." A voice greeted us from behind, we both turned at the same time to see Truly standing in front of us.

"Hey old man." Kenny broke in grabbing him firmly by the elbow and arm, he embraced him warmly before letting him go.