The car was here for me. It was VIP treatment of the sickest kind. Downstairs our doorbell rang, but I didn’t leave my bed. I wasn’t ready to leave yet. I still wasn’t ready to say goodbye.
My parents had already let me know I didn’t have to go - it was my choice through and through. As if a spell had settled over the house, when people came to visit they spoke in hushed voices. Or rather, the spell was over me and not my house, following me to school, to the park, to the fields; this was simply the place where it was most obvious, the most infectious. I hadn’t slept in my room since... I hadn’t slept in my room for weeks, surviving on a toothbrush and a few clothes in the spare room instead. No one had dared to ask me how I was feeling – I guess it was pretty obvious it was a pointless question. Not to mention an impossible answer.
Maybe it was better not to go? But then, and this was something I would not have been able to explain, to be with people who were experiencing the same, grief, (it hurt to even think it), would perhaps be the comfort I sought. Nothing had changed since that first night of nothing, followed by more nothing... Strangely I hadn’t cried again - it felt as if I was incapable of crying, or showing even emotion at all, ever again. I wanted to find proof today that I was not the only one suffering, that there were others who cared, even if not as much (never as much) as I did.
It repulsed me to even think this, as I realised I shunned both loneliness and company, trapped wherever I was or who I was with. I wanted an escape; even that stung too, as my mind involuntarily followed the train of thought to the train crash at the end – I want an escape. I want to be where he went. I want to be with him. The medicine cupboard keys were downstairs on a hook above the phone table. There were scissors, needles, medicines...I had thought about it fleetingly several times, imagined what it would be like, how painful it would be. Yet even now, alone in life and desperate to follow where I could not, I had to keep my promise to him – I would die for him, but I would not kill for him. Both of us had been smart enough to know the difference.
Life in my house (my world) was in limbo, and something had to change soon. I could feel it. And today I was going to learn the price.
For all the wrong reasons, I was going to the funeral.