Purple Dream

the funeral

'for death is an ugly truth and life is a beautiful lie'

I'm standing in front of a mirror in my room, taking a deep look at my eyes. I still haven't cried since the doctor said Mom's time of death. Thanks to The Wilson for helping me gather the service for Mom.

I'm looking at my black dress. I still do not understand why people use black cloth for a funeral. I happen to like black color and still oppose to associate it with sadness, death, or anything down to the graveyard. My body looks thinner than last month. Can't remember when the last time I had a proper meal and enough sleep time. 

"Are you ready, dear?"

I turn my head to see Mrs. Wilson smiles an empathy toward me.

"Yes, Mrs. Wilson. I'll be down in a minute."

This black dress is suffocating me. I reach for zipper on my back and start to unzip my dress. I take out my white plain dress and put it on. Much better. It's my Mom's funeral, I can wear any fucking clothes I want.

Luke, my best friend, gives me a ride to cemetery. He knows better to not talk about anything. I take a quick glance at him. He looks so dashing and handsome with those black suit and sunglasses. He's been very helpful and supportive for this past year. Come to think again, he's pretty much the reason I'm still sane enough for dealing with Mom's illness.

"How you holding up?" His voice interrupts my admiration thought about him.

"Good, I think."

"Still can't cry?"

I shake my head, "people are going tostart wondering though why I'm not crying."

He laughs, "there is no right respond for death. You can cry, scream, laugh, sleep, or run back and forth, people won't judge you."

"Well, I guess I have no respond about Mom."

"That's fine too." He pats my lap for a second and back concentrating to drive.

We arrive at the cemetery. The smell of green grass and tree make it really hard for me to associate Mom's funeral with sadness. Don't get me wrong, I'm sad for Mom died but I've prepared for this day. I have no regret left in me as I spend a year taking care of her and always there for her. I have no regret because I know Mom and I did our best to survive.

Luke holds my hand on our way to Mom's grave. I see people already gather around. There is my headmaster, my teachers, my neighbors, Mom's work friend I think, couple kids from my school, and etcetera. The priest begins his speech about the meaning of life and death and how God blesses us blablabla, I don't hear the rest. My eyes fixate on Mom's coffin in front of me. And all eyes are fixated on me.

I never know my father and the rest of our family. Mom never told me about her family. All I know is they banished her and kicked her out. Her family never look for her or me. I don't have a father, now mother, I don't have grandparents, cousins, and I'm a single child.

I'm screwed. I know that.

Luke nudges me slowly, dispersing all of pity thought I have toward myself. I turn my head to see him. He's mouthing 'eulogy' to me. Sadly, my brain decides to take a day off today as I don't understand a word he says.

"Your eulogy, B." He whispers on my ear.

"Oh, right."

I get up from my seat and walk to the edge of the coffin. I squint my eyes, avoiding the sun happy shines on me.