Monster of Blue

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

     Shae was declared dead today.

     I stand silent in the middle of the bare room. The white paint on the walls holding faint outlines where her furniture once sat. Only the vanity mirror and bare desk—where her computer once sat—remains, the movers thankfully unable to take it out because of the lack of room at her parent’s house. Taking a deep breath, I slowly let it out—trying to hold in the tears that linger on the rims of my eyes. If only I had given her more attention, stayed home until she was truly better. If only I hadn’t…for fucks sake! We made up! Everything is supposed to be fine now! 

     My eyes linger on the vanity mirror, a sad beaten duplicate of myself staring back. The lump in my throat grows in size as I gaze once more around the empty room, a bitter taste washing over my tongue as I think of her. As my eyes fall onto the desk however, I see the pastel yellow hue of a post-it-note. I feel my heart sink as I walk over and pick it up again. 

     Dear Mitchell, 

     I’m sorry. There is no easy way of telling you this but I have to go and I wish I could explain but I can’t. Please don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine so take care of yourself and I’ll get in touch with you soon. Love you. 

     Soon. Soon had never happened, and now soon will never happen. Rage and grief intertwine inside of me, like a pair of snakes sinking their poisoned fangs into my flesh. The essence numbing my senses to where all I can feel is the painful thump of my heart. I turn my attention over to the list that made absolutely no damn sense. The man in blue? I want to punch myself in the face. I should have been checking to see if she was actually taking her pills. Blinking the tears away, I pocket sticky note and the list before walking towards the exit, only glancing once more around the room before shutting it behind me. I have to get ready. 

**** 

     The feeling of suffocation overwhelms me as I stand out in the humid air. Trees shade the lush grass and grey headstones; statues of angels bowed in prayer as countless names carved into the stone meet my eyes. But, they don’t matter. All that matters is hers. I wipe my eyes with the back of my head as I gaze down at her name. Unable to hold them back any longer. 

     Her family members join me in my sorrow; their faces wet as black attire cover their forms. Mr. and Mrs. Gresham look up at me with glassy eyes as I approach them, a silent question lingering in the air. Mr. Gresham nods and gestures me over to join them. I hesitate and he says, “Please, join us. You’re as much part of this family as the rest.” 

     His voice brakes at the end and I walk over without a word and take a seat beside them. A closed black coffin lies before us, a beautiful white rose bouquet with her picture sitting next to it. Mrs. Gresham begins weeping uncontrollably as the priest walks up and Mr. Gresham holds her close in comfort. I wrap my arms around myself. With a sullen look in his eyes the preacher speaks, “We have come together today for not a happy occasion but one of grief.” 

     Several of her family members weep at that and glancing back I feel a heavy weight on my heart at the sight of Shirley. Her makeup runs freely down her face and I feel the grasp around my chest tighten. 

      “Shae Gresham was a precious girl with big dreams and a beautiful personality. None of us here could image that this would happen, but when could we ever truly understand how these types of things happen.” I tighten my hands in fists as the pastor speaks, gritting my teeth to keep my sobs silent. 

      “We will all miss Shae dearly and will never forget her in our hearts.” Taking a deep breath the priest gestures for Mr. and Mrs. Gresham to come forward, and slowly the couple gather themselves from their seats. 

     Even just as an observer I can feel the painful trimmers that shoot through their broken forms. Mrs. Gresham’s body shivers as soft sobs leave her lips, Mr. Gresham holding her close and helping her to continue forward. Bowing their heads in a silent prayer Mr. Gresham lays a rose on his daughter’s coffin. His wife places her hand on top of his, both clinging onto each other in order to provide some sort of comfort.

      Hot wet trails fall down my cheeks as more as more family members and friends walk up to the coffin with a white rose of their own. My thoughts fade into mush and soon I find myself before Shae’s final resting place, a red rose in my hand. I gently touch the smooth ebony surface, bowing my head in misery and regret before placing the red rose among the white; the vibrant color of the petals contrasts sharply against the black and white. A symbol of the confession I never had the guts to make when she was here and that now will remain silent forever. I quickly return to my seat. 

     It’s an outer body experience, watching someone you had talked to and lived with just month’s before being buried. I clench my hands into tight fists. I can’t even hope that she’s alive anymore. She…she…we don’t even have a body. However, this lack of proof still doesn’t lessen the hurt. I sit there, numb and lost to reality as the mass of bodies move away—the reeving of cars faintly meeting my ears. Then I hear a low, faint laughter on the wind. 

     I snap up my gaze from the ground, hopping to my feet. Who would dare laugh at a funeral?

      A figure in the distance catches my eye and I glare at a tall slender man. His features are hidden in the shadows of the trees as he stands among the tombstones, the sun shining brightly on his blue suit.

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END

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