SIERRA'S LEONE

HEELS TO HEAVEN

If there was something people didn't know about Cecile, it was that trouble was her middle name. Cecile wasn't an attention seeker but an attention grabber and full-fledged rebel.

Sierra found out at her own expense as she was accused Cecile of shoplifting when nail varnish and other goods found themselves in her Eastpak backpack.

How to explain?

Mr. Lennox couldn't understand why a child who could play for all these things would shoplift, but this was only one of the many mysteries which surrounded Cecile.

"Dad, I'm sorry."

"I'm tired of this, Sierra."

"It wasn't me, dad."

"I know, you shouldn't hang around with her, Sierra; she'll be your downfall. Cecile doesn't have the same background as you; she'll always wiggle herself out of trouble as long as her parents are around."

"I have you, dad."

"Sierra, I don't have their power, and I won't be around forever. You need to learn to survive and rise above, don't limit yourself, Sierra. Don't stray away in ways that will lead you, like in Monopoly, to the jail square. Use your head."

A clutched knuckle punch followed Mr. Lennox's advice on Sierra's head.

If her father warned her not to follow Cecile, Jacob's vision was different.

"Cecile needs your love Sierra; perhaps God put you on Cecile's path to stop her from straying away from the light of God. Your friendship is something that can help her."

It was the first time someone said Cecile needed help. Everyone always pretended when it came to Cecile. Her angelic face mesmerized everyone, making them forget her shenanigans. Even her parents appeared not to notice their daughter's behavior leaving the Lennox to tend to their daughter. Cecile was illegitimate to sadness by her wealth, according to some. Her money seemed a warranty to happiness, yet the girl was always alone, even in a crowd.

Cecile was a handful, and she did everything in her power to make heads turn.

Now it was Sierra who reeled in the attention, and as all of the church heads turned to witness her flamboyant entrance.

Sierra caught the first train for Dijon, but she was still late for the ceremony. It was Cecile's big day, and Sierra didn't plan to miss it.

She walked straight down the aisle to the open casket, where she posed the sparkling Jimmy Choo heels at her friend's feet while making a few people gasp. "Cecile, can you see me? I kept my promise. Look, I am wearing an orange dress."

Cecile wished for this, and Sierra respected her friend's request, "please wear the brightest dress you can find at my funeral and drink champagne in my honor."

Sierra turned to face the Gauthier's, Cecile's friends and, the parishioners, "Cecile was not a quiet person; she was loud and extravagant. Right Now, I doubt she's happy seeing you all with your black clothes and weary faces. Cecile loved all things bright and shimmery. My friend loved life and people, those who were different, people who society pushed aside. Cecile cared, I mean," Sierra paused and looked back at the casket where Cecile laid. Never had her friend been so still; she was the type of person you found with half of her body sleeping on the floor. Sierra smiled and resumed, "she took an interest in a girl like me. Cecile treated me like her kin. Though everything separated us, I can not believe she's gone."

Sierra turned to look at her friend again. "Cecile would want us to smile and drink to accompany her on her voyage." No one noticed the other element Sierra held in her hands, "so here's to you, Cecile."

Sierra popped open the bottle of wine she held. "Eh, wine is fine, right, Jacob?"

Jacob also came to Cecile's funeral. He nodded, and Sierra took a few gulps from the bottle.

"For those who don't know, my brother is a pastor, so he knows the stuff," Sierra said, throwing a stern stare at Mrs. Gauthier before looking at the priest who had commenced the ceremony.

"To Cecile, may your journey beㅡ, "Sierra stopped. She had held back her tears as much as she could. But now, the mission found itself aborted. The drops fell one by one.

Smile, Sierra; it was a faint whisper that traveled like the wind in the church. Automatically Sierra smiled, "see you soon, Cecile."

Everyone expected to hear a hymn. Instead, it was Coldplay's Paradise, which echoed loud in the church. One of her acquaintances who arrived a day before managed to get the family to accept the music. Cecile desired a cremation without anything fancy.

The church ceremony was the Gauthier's doing. Parents and children accused one another of selfishness. They loved to contradict any of their daughter's decisions. To them, all their Cecile did was either nonsense or irrelevant. They withdrew their support as soon as they realized how little she affectioned the world and the codes of society they abided by.

Luckily Cecile was smart enough to get her last wishes written up legally.

The procession followed Cecile to the crematorium.

There Sierra demonstrated the rage one feels when losing a loved one. She wallowed like no one while everyone remained collected.

Jacob tried to contain his sister in his arms, but Sierra would not stop.

"What is she trying to prove? Cecile was our daughter; we are not putting on a show," Ms. Gauthier whispered in her husband's ears.

"I guess it's how these people handle things," Mr.Gauthier replied while glaring at Sierra.