The Cheyenne Reynolds Story

Chapter 3- A Funeral

Lucy and I grew even closer, and I also told her about my life. She was like the little sister I never had. My only instinct was to protect her. She was a little angel in my eyes. Everyone at Samson's Children's Home grew to love her. She was popular amongst everyone.

* * * *

It was the second week of my stay at the children's home, and the day of my mother's funeral. It was a sad gloomy day and the sky had been very dark, and covered with rain clouds.

It was a large ceremony. After all, she was well-known for her art pieces. Everyone dressed in white to honour her- she always said she wanted white to be worn at her funeral.

The cathedral was a grand white building. White roses and lilies lined the inside all around the edges. Gold chandeliers hung from the ceiling, with white light shining from them. White curtains covered the windows and white drapery decorated the ceiling where the chandeliers left space.

The only family members that were at the funeral were Uncle Ethan and Aunt Brooke, as well as my grandparents. I had no other aunts and uncles. My mother once had a sister named Emily.

Emily, along with my mother and Uncle Ethan were triplets. They did everything together. When they were eight years old, they went swimming at a nearby river where they always swam during the summer. There was a rope which hung from the tree that they normally swung on before diving into the river.

**Flashback**

"I want to go first", Emily insisted. "I'm the youngest so I deserve to go first."

Emily pouted her lips, and her brother and sister couldn't resist it, even if she was only a few minutes younger than they were.

"Okay", Ethan said, giving into his sister's wish.

Emily always insisted on going first, so on that day, it wasn't a surprise. Elizabeth and Ethan always gave in to her pleads.

When she began to swing on the rope, it burst and she fell in the water. Ethan and Elizabeth thought she was playing, after she didn't surface to the top- she always pulled stunts like that.

"Why does Em always do things like this?", Liz asked.

"She thinks it's fun. Let's not pay attention to her and she'll probably realize that it's really not funny."

Less than five minutes later, they began to panic. Emily was still under water. They knew she could hold her breath for long, but they knew very well that she couldn't last that long.

Liz ran to get help and Ethan dived in to fetch Emily. In the end there was no luck, Emily was a goner.

**End of Flashback**

Uncle Ethan was sad all over. He lost one sister many years ago, and now the only one that was left is gone as well. I couldn't even imagine losing the two persons I spent my time enclosed in my mother's womb with, but then again, my mother, whom I grew inside for so many months, and spent my entire life with, was no more. She was just another body that will be laid underground and just another addition to a cemetery where people will soon forget her.

I shed a river of tears as the realization hit me hard, she's never going to get to paint another picture or do another sculpture. Never going to get to draw another image, never going to be there for me.

"It's going to be okay", Grandma Alice said.

You could tell she was hurt. After all, she had lost Emily when she was eight, and now twenty-eight years later, my mother.

Grandma Alice stared at Uncle Ethan. I knew for sure what she was thinking. Ethan was her only child left, and even though he was thirty-six, he would always be her baby, her survivor. The one among the three who had made it the furthest.

"You know Elizabeth wouldn't want you to spend your time crying. She would want you to be happy. Don't deny yourself that happiness. Do what your mother would want."

I was her only grandchild. Uncle Ethan and Aunt Brooke didn't have any children, because of some problem with genetics, the triplets were infertile. My mother got lucky though. She had a miracle. I was her miracle, her most prized possession, but now she was gone.

My grandmother will never have great grandchildren because I'm also infertile. I feel like such a disappointment, but there's nothing I can do. If my uncle and aunt wanted children, they could always try fertility treatment but I guess they just don't want any.

* * * *

It was my time to pay tribute to my mother. I went up and decided to sing her favourite song, Porcelain Fists by Ingrid Michaelson.

"So take my hand, you're treading water. And I feel sand slipping away underneath my toes. Nobody knows. Where is it she goes. When those sad eyes start to close. Nobody knows. Where is it she goes. When those sad eyes close."

When I'm finish, I get a standing ovation. I know I should be engulfed with sadness, but I begin to smile, and look towards the light shining through the glass windows, where the sky has cleared, and the sun has emerged. At that moment, I know I'll be okay. I go up to my mother's coffin, hold on to her hand and talk to her.

"Mom, I know you'll be okay. You're in peace now. I'll try my best to be what you want, and I know that what you want most is for me to be myself."

I kiss her on the lips. The last time I'll see her again. My beautiful mother, so peacefully at ease in her enchanted sleep.

A/N: Grief works in many stages. In the beginning, there's denial. You don't want to accept that someone close to you is gone forever. But in the ending, there's acceptance. It's not easy to move on after tragedy, but you'll have to accept that the person is gone, and wouldn't want you to spend the rest of your life mourning them, but would want you to move on with your life.

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~XOXO KIKIIBOO❤