Hometorius : Coming Home

chapter 4 : Funeral Home "The Joy"

Marilyn POV

I will remember the date of May 1, 2014 for the rest of my life. I have no doubt about it. So many sad things happened. Okay, not sad. They were horrible, heart-wrecking things that I can hardly come back to.

First, my grandmother had a heart attack and they failed to save her. My parents are amazing, and they managed to organize a refined funeral worthy of the presidential couple on the same day, with the help of the Funeral Home "The Joy".

From outside of our family only Ivan and Kate with their families came.

The weather was... bad, it didn't match the funeral. Heat was pouring from the skies. And we, in these black clothes, stood there and sweated like pigs. I was wearing a bit over knee-length dress slightly widening towards the bottom. Ivan, even in this stiff suit, looked divine. And Kate looked like a lady of darkness or something.

The priest was saying something, but I was too busy cuddling into the sleeve of Ivan's blazer to listen to him. And only when the coffin with my grandmother, with my beloved, irreplaceable grandmother who always offered help in anything, who never gave up, was slowly lowered into that deadly pit, I lost it for good. I admit, I was crying like a baby. And as soon as the first tears ran down my cheeks, heavy rain fell from the sky.

Ivan hugged me even more and leaned closer to my ear. He was the only one who could lean this close without making me shiver. And later he said something that almost literally killed me. He dumped me. Fucker. And he said he loved me. And what did these two years, two months and seventeen days of our relationship mean in that case? Was it all just his perfect game? Did he really manage to pretend to have feelings for me for so long?

Of course, I didn't ask any of these questions. I didn't even want to. But when we were to throw a symbolic handful of dirt into this horrible pit, without a single thought I threw myself onto the coffin, embraced it with all my strength and began pouring out incredible amounts of tears. Nobody said anything, nobody took me from there.

I lay on this coffin and wondered if anyone ever needed me at all. I wanted to open that heavy lid, cram inside and cuddle my grandma. I wanted to forget that the first of May is supposedly the best day for starting relationships, that it's like the second Valentine's Day. I wanted them to bury me alive.

None of these things happened. What a pity. I'd say, God would have killed two birds with one stone. Quite literally.

In the end, my dad reached his hands to me and told me to leave the bottom so that they could finish the ceremony. I didn't even move. I heard them discussing something above me. They decided that Ivan should try to convince me. As soon as I heard this, as soon as Ivan agreed, I laughed. Really. I stroked the coffin gently cleaning it a bit, kissed it and quickly stood up, brushing off the dress from this damned soil. Ivan stretched out his hand to me, probably to help me crawl up from the pit that was deeper than I thought. I looked at him, still laughing aloud.

"Don't touch me again," I hissed as I clambered out of the hole and walked quickly past him.

I didn't want to leave my grandma, but the longer I felt the gaze of my ex on my back, the more I wanted to throw fists at someone. Still in the rain, I went home and stashed to my room.

I decided to join my grandmother.

On May 1, 2014, I cut myself for the first time.

I'd like to inform you that I survived.