Several Short Storiesss

Lauren's Story

I can't believe he's here. I can't believe he actually had the audacity to show up, here, at my funeral, as if nothing happened.

It's only fair, my family is stupid. They thought, no, they think, that he's the love of my life, my best friend, and "Oh, poor Mira Jane would love to see him." No. Wrong. Mira Jane would not love to see him.

But that's not the real problem. The problem is that he's here. And he's speaking. To my family. He's talking as if they're friends!

"Mira was my best friend. How could this happen?" He threw in a cuss word there too. Then he breaks down. "I'm so sorry, I just lost control."

Is that a confession, constable? I sure think so.

He did lose control. He's lost control several times, and now that I'm dead...

Now that I'm dead he's going to lie again.

Cheat again.

Hurt again.

He says a speech. About how he loved me, and how he wished he could have been with me to the very end. He says he doesn't know why we drifted apart. He says he still looks at my Instagram profile, that he's still on my Snapchat, he still follows me on Facebook.

He's pinned all my Pinterest boards, he's saved all my texts. He knows my current address.

Oops. He's overshared. The crowd is uncomfortable. I hear a whisper.

"Is he a stalker?"

Good job, Sherlock, you've solved the case. Let's book 'im.

But it's over like that. He's turned it around again with his melancholy green eyes and his dapper black suit.

"We were going to get back together," he says slowly, mimicking mournfulness like a jester mimicks tears. "I was going to propose."

No.

No.

No!

The crowd is listening again. Mom is crying. Mom, stop crying, see through your crystal tears, this is a hoax! His teeth are knives, his throat tells lies. I'm dead, he's lying! I'm screaming, someone else is dying and my God! He's lying!

He does it so well! How can he even breathe, choking on that poisonous spit and those terrible words? Is his head on straight? Can even he see like you and me? Does he know that as word after word drips out of his mouth, none of it is true?

He's a fool.

"You fool!" I scream, ethereal winds whipping around me, "I will never love you!"

The whole area is blown by my furious gusts. Hats are clutched, empty chairs are knocked right over. This is what you get for having a funeral in a field.

He looks out for a moment. He seems lost. Then he's staring right at me, he's lying right at me. With his eyes, he's killing me all over again.

It's over. He's won them over. They cry and clap as he walks off the podium. They're so proud, so happy, that someone so good could ever love me.

I'm cursed, I guess. All I can do is follow him. I can't touch him, even as they put me in the ground and I'm screaming and kicking the casket lid. Then I give up, I already know it's pointless. Every punch only goes through the top.

I follow him into his car. I ride shotgun, watch him put his key in the cupholder, watch him start the car. He presses the button and we go off into the sunset.

I bet this is what he wanted, actually. A girl to ride with him in silence, no complaints, no preferences. Just a comfortable silence.

Well, it's suffocating. I really wonder if he can breathe. I know I can't.