My Purgatory Hell

Chapter 14

"Life and death are but phases of the same thing,
the reverse and obverse of the same coin.
Death is as necessary for man's growth as life itself."

By Mahatma Gandhi

The night before my own funeral went agonizingly slow, but my conversation with Samantha lightened it up. During our talk, my mind had started to picture what my funeral would be like. The flowers, the people, my showing, just as Samantha voiced in our discussion. Will they show my body? I've been avoiding my family as they planned my funeral, because I didn't want to actively think about my death. Yes it has been a week since I have passed, and I am still in denial about my death. Though, I have been thinking about these things more often than I'd like to admit.

My family arrived before the showing. Samantha and I were keeping a close eye on my family, so when they left, we followed behind them to the funeral home. As we went to the showing room, my heart thudded deep in my chest when I spotted the coffin. Was I ready to face seeing my physical body once again? Was I ready for this wave of emotion?

They had chosen a dark mahogany for my casket. The coffin was strategically placed at the far end of the room positioned in the center. As soon as I laid eyes on the coffin, I froze in my tracks. I was compelled to see what they picked for my last outfit; yet, seeing my physical body kept my feet glued to the ground. Gigantic flower bouquets were set up strategically around the casket, presenting explosions of colors in the otherwise barren, white room.

"I can't believe she's really dead," my father barely whispered, which was loud enough for just my mother to hear. She nodded in agreement and squeezed his hand in reassurance. Dad had approached my casket and held his arms as he took in my features for one of the last times. I didn't have to see my father's face to know he was crying, which tore at my heart strings. I wanted to hug him and wipe the tears away from his face. From my mother's face. From my brothers' face.

Guilt welled inside of me--what if I had never agreed to go to that stupid party? What if I had never saw Corwin and Hayley together? What if I had stayed at the party regardless of my turmoil of emotions? Ultimately, would I still be alive?

My gut felt empty and numb. The want to be alive and be there for my family made things more difficult. More real. More raw. 

I can understand now why Samantha felt tortured every time she looked back at the memory of her funeral. The day seemed to be sliding by achingly slow, making the seconds feel like minutes and the minutes feel like hours. Different people showed up, though I only knew half of them.

Hayley came to my funeral by herself, and she kept to herself during her walk through. Her face was swollen from all of the crying she must have been doing that morning. Anger flared up inside of me when my eyes focused on her. How could she have the courage to come to my funeral when she's the one who caused my death? To feel her betrayal yet again, I wanted to scream and throw things. 

"I want to hurt her," I whispered to Samantha with my eyes still fixated on Hayley's form. Samantha had stood by my side as waves of emotion rolled through me, making me glad. I was grateful for her silence, and I was also grateful for her presence.

Samantha took the opportunity to respond. "I know, but it isn't right. It isn't worth it."

Her words held a lot of truth, and I knew this. I just wanted to hurt her as bad as she hurt me, so much that I was practically seeing red.

Corwin came in about a half hour after Hayley had made her way to my family to express her condolences. Winnie had slightly swollen eyes as he stood diligently next to his family, who were there to express their sorrow. They weren't nearly as swollen as Hayley's, but I could tell my death had impacted Corwin to some extent. I felt an odd satisfaction at this realization, because I didn't even think Corwin would blink at the sound of my death.