I Couldn't Believe it Was Me
Continuation of Part Two: After
Chapter 18.
Frantic and sad, the next week didn’t go so well… obviously. It was weird not hearing him snoring during the night or him coming downstairs half naked. Mom had a different face, too. Her eyes were sunken and she had purple bags underneath them. Dad was the one who tried to keep the family together. He did his best at making conversation at dinner or making random jokes or telling stories about weird people he saw walking on the sidewalks on the way to work. He managed to get a few smiles, but it wasn’t normal.
Obviously it wasn’t normal.
How would it be normal?
What was normal?
His funeral was today. That sure wasn’t normal.
“Willow,” Mom said, walking into my room, “Are you ready? We have to go now.”
“I’ll never be ready!” I cried, shutting the door furiously in her face. Mom knocked frantically at the door as I slipped on a black dress and tights. Then, I opened the door so fast that mom almost fell. We walked past the closed door that leads into Jake’s room: the closed door that hasn’t been opened since he died.
We got into the car and drove to the funeral home where anyone that knew Jake could go. There were so many people there; so many people that cared about him. I saw his entire basketball team, including the coach. Most of the teachers he’s had, all his friends, David, a few workers from local stores that knew him; they were all there. It was like the entire town was there.
A lot of people said things and at the end, everyone walked up to his coffin in a line and said their good byes. It was awkward, especially because I was the only one who didn’t go up there.
A lot of people came up to my mom, my dad and I, all saying the same thing: “I’m so sorry for your lose,” and “I’ll pray for your family,” even though we weren’t much of a religious household.
We thanked them.
Then a black hearse drove the coffin to the cemetery where the close family would go and watch his body be lowered into the ground. We drove the fifteen-minute trip behind that car, silent and gloomy.
The coffin was to be buried on top of a hill, overlooking the rest of the cemetery and the small town. A few men carried the coffin up the hill, as our family gathered around the rectangular hole in the ground.
It really was a beautiful day. There was one fluffy cloud in the sky and the rest was a bright blue. The sun was shining, lighting up the colors of the leaves and illuminating the grass to a sparkling green glow. There was a little breeze, just enough to hear the branches on the trees rustling and the sound of a gentle wind in your ears. It was one of those days where Jake would go skateboarding on the road or jogging in the park. It was a happy day.
Mom looked at me with sad eyes, prying me on to say the words I had prepared.
I coughed and began.
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