White Coffin

When they lowered my older sister's coffin into the ground, mommy stood behind the priest, quiet and still, her eyes red. Daddy squeezed her hand in his own, not even trying to hold back the tears. And I... I held a red grave candle with both hands and thought about everything that had happened that day. It started raining. Somehow, it was appropriate for the sky to cry, too. I hid the candle under my jacket to keep the flame from blowing out.

I didn't completely understand why my sister was sleeping in a white wooden box or why they were throwing soil on the box. I mean, how was she going to get out once she woke up? She was only 11 years old. I doubted she would be strong enough to push through all that soil. But in that room, where everybody cried and I stood next to the open box and watched her sleep, mommy came to me, hugged me and said:

„Say goodbye to your sister." Her voice was stuffy.

„Why?" I asked.

„Because she won't wake up anymore."

I looked at mommy. What did she mean? When I was sick, I slept all the time, but I always woke up. I was certain my sister would do that, too. You have to wake up sometimes, even if you're really, really sick.

I stood by my sister for a while longer, but she didn't wake up. They pulled me away and closed the box and mommy wept.

And so, they buried her and she didn't wake up.

It rained while we were driving home and later, while we were getting ready for bed. Mommy took two pills and I lay between her and daddy and I could still hear the rain. The lightning flashed a few times and each time I saw my sister standing in the bedroom door, dirty and disheveled, and staring at us. I would get up and try to touch her, but she would disappear with another lightning flash.

"Nina? What are you doing?" daddy asked. He had probably felt me getting up and coming back to the bed.

"It's Chris..."

I didn't finish. How could I explain it to him?

"What about Chris?"

He sat in the bed and looked at me. I shook my head. He wouldn't believe me anyway. He and mommy thought Chris wouldn't wake up ever again. He told me to get back to the bed. He hugged me and soon I could hear him snoring again. I was afraid to fall asleep because that day I learned that sometimes you don't wake up.

Mommy was strange in the morning. I called out to her, but she didn't even look at me.

"Are you okay?" daddy asked and she flinched.

She shook her head.

"I had a dream." She frowned. "It was dark and Chris was holding a candle. She was yelling."

"What did she yell?"

"Mommy, my candle is still burning," she said. "At least I think so."

"Did Chris wake up?" I asked.

"No, sweetie, mommy just dreamed of her," daddy said.

"I just dreamed," mommy said, patted me on the head and went into the bathroom. She was in there for a long time.

After breakfast we went to visit Chris' grave. My grave candle was no longer burning so daddy took me to get a new one. Mommy stayed behind and stared at the ground covered with flowers wreaths and grave candles.

In the evening, mommy lit a small white grave candle and put it in the window of Chris' and my room. She then took three pills and went to sleep and I nestled between daddy and her. I stared at the door for some time, but Chris didn't appear. I went to my room, dragged the chair to the window and watched the flame flicker in the plastic lantern. I wanted Chris to wake up already. I lay in her bed and stared at the candle until I finally fell asleep.