If You Were Gone

If You Were Gone (2)

Chapter 2

     I sat on the pew, soaking in the surroundings of the funeral home. The many masses of people flooding in to get a seat and take part in the ceremony. Our family all flew in from California, Boston, and Virginia in a huge rush, dropping whatever they had planned. Kids from school all swarmed in and took seats in the back of the building. Several teachers from school stood in the back. The funeral home was packed.

      We were all joined here by one person. A person who had touched each and every one of our hearts. A person that could make you laugh no matter how sad you were. A person that I needed more then anything.

     I need you, Mariah. This can't be happening. You're too young to be gone from us. From me. Why did you have to go. More then anything, I hated myself. I caused this. My selfish actions caused her death. I deserve her fate. I don't deserve to be here while she is gone.

     I stared at the thick, polished, wooden casket that was at the center of the platform. It was placed behind the mic stand, surrounded by dozens of flowers in creative assortments.

     In front of me, my mom and dad sat with Daniel in between them. My father's arm tightly around Daniels shaking shoulder. Loud sobs escaped my mother's mouth and filled the loud symphony of cries that filled the room.

     As I stared at my sisters casket, a thick tear rolled down my rosy cheek. I let it fall onto my black dress, making a small wet spot where it had hit. I felt someone's hand intertwine theirs with mine.

       I looked over and spotted Clarissa. She had a tissue up to her eye as she dabbed away at the tears, small sobs leaking out the corners of her mouth. I squeezed her hand.

      Last night flooded back to me.

Clarissa and I sat on my bed and talked. It was the first time I had a one-on-one talk with her since she got married to Jessie. After she got married, they packed up their things and moved to Colorado. I was always mad at her because she left. I always felt like Clarissa was my best friend and she left me with no one to talk to. Back when Clarissa lived with us, we would always spend hours talking on her bed. Her room was the hang out place. Or as we called it, 'Forman's Basement', after our favorite TV show, That's 70's Show. 

     Today was the first time I could talk without breaking down into hysterics. I was able to think about Mariah and somewhat control my emotions.

     "You know what really gets me?" I asked Clarissa as she played with my long red hair. I had to make sure that I didn't lean back too much because I didn't want to put pressure on Clarissa very impregnated belly.

     "What?"

     "The world will never get the chance to listen to her beautiful music." I said softly.

      "I thought you always hated it when she played?" She asked me, leaning forward to look at my face.

      "I didn't hate the playing. I only hated that she would play in the middle of the night when I was trying to sleep." I answered.

      "Well, I guess that's how she got good."

       "No, that's not it." I sighed. "She has one of those natural talents that every kid wishes they have. Mariah was always good at the flute. She didn't have to try. You could just see it in the way she played. Her eyes would close elegantly and a dazzling smile would spread across her face as she brings the end of the flute, curving her lips to fit it perfectly. She move her fingers, pressing the pads in a melodious way that would automatically put everyone in the room in a serene mood."

      Clarissa remained silent as I stopped talking. All of a sudden I felt weird for finally saying what I have been meaning to tell Mariah all these years. I was always jealous of her music abilities. Even though I had my soccer and that made me special, but Mariah's ability to play music was extravagant. Anyone could kick a ball. Someone truly talented could play music the way she does. I was always jealous and the only way I could make myself feel better was by bagging on the 'Bandies'. I wish I told her the truth.

      "I never knew you felt that way," Clarissa finally said after a moment of silent.

      "Yeah, neither did Mariah."

      That did it. After doing so good at controlling my emotions, I finally let the tears fall, soaking my t-shirt. Clarissa pulled me into a tight hug. She rubbed my back.

      "Its not supposed to be like this." I said into Carissa's shoulder. "She's supposed to be here with us."

      "Its ok, Kasey. She is here with us. She will always be here with us." Clarissa responded, her face dry.

      "You don't understand!" I pulled away from her grasp.

      "What don't I understand?"

      "Mariah.... The last thing she told me...." I sobbed.

      "What was it? What did she say?"

      "She said....'Thanks....for nothing." I answered between sobs. "She said the she was done with me. I never got to apologize and now it's too late. I'm a horrible person."

       Clarissa got up and gave me a tight hug. "You two always got into fights. I'm sure she didn't mean it."

      "You should of seen her face. She meant it."

      There were some truth in Mariah's words. I did nothing to help her. I should of given her a ride home and all of this could have been avoided. Mariah could be home and my parents would be acting normal. I caused this. I did this.     

     "This isn't happening." I finally said. "This is one of her pranks, right? Like the time she hid under her bed and we all thought she ran away. Right? She's here?" I asked.

      I pulled away from Clarissa and walked over to the other side of the room where Mariah's bed was. I got down on my knees and lifted up the skirt to peer under the bed. I half expected Mariah's brown eyes to be staring back at me as she screamed 'Gotcha!' But that didn't happen. There was no Mariah. I dropped the skirt and put my head on the floor, crying uncontrollably.

      "Mariah, please. Come back." I cried, hitting the floor.

      "Kasey," Clarissa said as she put her hand on my back and pulled my up. I wiped away the tears.

      "What, Clarissa? Don't act like you don't care! Look at you! You're not even crying. Don't you care?" I brought my head back down to the floor.

     "Of course I care, Kasey. I care a lot. Mariah was my sister too." Clarissa answered in a soft voice that cracked at the end.

      "Well, you're doing a lousy job at showing that you care." I retorted.

      "I'm trying to be strong, Kasey. I have to be strong for mom and dad. They are falling apart. Mom can barely talk without going down on her knees in hysterics. Dad is walking around like a zombie. I have to take care of you and Daniel." Clarissa said.

      I looked up at her. Finally, I saw them. Tears were making their way down her ivory face. I got up and hugged Clarissa.

     "You don't have to handle everything." I said into her thick curly hair.

      "I know, but sometimes I feel like I have to because I'm the oldest."

      "We are family. We can handle this as a family." I hugged Clarissa tighter. Slowly, my sobs stopped. "I don't think Mariah would want us to be like this."

      "Yeah I don't think she would either. She always hated sad moments. She'd always turn any sad moment into something funny." Clarissa said.

      I nodded. "Yeah, she hates sentimental moments. And tears."