Mind gone astray - frerard

3. complex visual hallucinations

Wednesday

I stare at my reflection in the mirror, frowning. I hate wearing suits. They're too formal, too serious. And they don't exactly remind me of good moments in my life. I look down at my sleeves as I pull on them. I clearly remember the last time I wore a suit. Seven years ago. My father's funeral. The first and last funeral I attended, actually. That will change today. I look back up and meet my own eyes. They're swollen and red. I spent the night crying. I haven't really stopped since she passed. I've only been crying or sleeping. And lately that last one has been hard to do, seeing as every time I try to close my eyes scary things appear. I know they're not real, but sometimes it really feels like they are. And I'm terrified of them.

"Gerard?" I hear behind me.

I turn around to notice my mom in the doorway. I don't know why I thought it would be my grandmother. I try to smile as she takes a step closer.

"Are you alright?" she whispers, before wrapping her arms around me.

"I'm fine, mom," I say, gently pushing her off me.

She nods. She looks around my room. Then she nods again. She looks at me and smiles sadly before leaving my room. I follow her, glancing one last time at myself in the mirror. I really hate suits.

As soon as we step into the February morning air, the cold hits me, making my bones ache. More than they already do anyway. I stare at the black car my mother rented for the funeral. This time I really wish we were going in my mom's pale blue mini I used to hate. It doesn't seem as ridiculous anymore. My brother is already in the back seat of the baleful vehicle. I sigh before going to sit next to him. He offers me a small smile. My mother starts the car and backs up in the driveway. I watch lugubriously as our house disappears behind us. We drive to the church in silence.

After we arrive, we face the deceased's friends and family, and the family's friends and the friends' family and many of them gather around us to hug us and tell us how much they missed us and how much me and my brother grew since the last time we saw them and how I am a fine young man now and how sorry they are for the loss of our grandmother. My mother stays silent but she smiles every time someone says something to her.

"You've lost so much weight!" someone says.

I look up from my feet to meet my great aunt's kind eyes and overly sweet smile. I don't especially dislike her, I have no reason to, she's always been nice to me and my brother, but I hate when people talk about my weight. I just hate it. But I really don't want a confrontation right now. So I simply shrug and walk away, ignoring the next comment about how much I changed. But as I do so I catch a glimpse of something odd, yet familiar. There's a little girl here, standing between two adults, wearing one of those old dresses with a bow in the back, giggling and staring right at me. I have a feeling like I've seen her before, but I can't really tell where. I force a smile and turn toward the doors of the church, where every one seems to be heading. I step inside the church, looking around and blinking. We all take seats in front of the casket - it's closed, thank goodness - my mom and brother and I being in the front row. My mother and brother stand up to light candles around the coffin. I stay sitting, trying not to meet any of the eyes of the people staring at me. Once they're seated again everyone in the church starts singing. Well, everyone except me. I just stare at my feet, waiting for the time to pass.

"Let us commend Elena Lee Rush to the mercy of God." the priest says after everyone shuts the fuck up.

I close my eyes, trying not to hear the prayers he's reciting, trying not to hear the name of my late grandmother again. But I hear a giggle. The giggle from the little girl I saw. It resonates in my mind.