The First Five Days

Did you know that if you leave Cheerios in a bowl of milk for long enough, they actually swell up? Bet you didn't. And did you know that if you sit and stare at them, you can watch it happen? Bet you didn't.

For five days I spent my mornings staring at Cheerios. I just couldn't lift the spoon to my mouth and eat them. This fun activity was followed by a few hours at the computer, looking at Sam's Myspace. Looking at his pictures, his comments, the bands he liked. Because if I didn't remind myself EVERY DAY of who he was; I might forget him. And that would be too terrible to imagine.

Anyway, on day Five, I was sitting, staring at my Cheerios, when the phone rang. I jolted, and stood up to get it. My mum raised her eyebrows.

"Just sit down, Nicola, " she smiled, "I'll get it."

"No!"I snapped, "I'll get it. It might be something important." I left the Cheerios at the table, and ran into the hallway to pick up the phone. It felt heavy and hard in my hand.

"Hi," I said into it, tentitavely.

"Hi," a familiar voice chirped. It was Melody. I could have cried! It was such a relief hearing one of their voices.

"Oh, hi Mel," I replied (instead of crying.) "How are you?"

STUPID QUESTION.

"I'm-" Mel hesitated, "fine. You?"

"Not really," I sighed. "I miss him."

UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE CENTURY.

"Well, I'm just calling to let you know," Mel coughed, "that the funeral's on Friday. At St. Matthew's Church, it starts at two."

"Thanks." I mumbled.

BUT NO THANKS.

"Listen," she said, "do you want me to come over? We could talk, or go out, or something. You sound like you need it-"

"No Mel," I interrputed, "I think I'll be ok. See you Friday."

And I hung up, and stepped back into the kitchen.

"What's happening on Friday?" Mum asked, tipping my Cheerios into the bin.

"It's Sam's funeral. It's at St. Matthew's at two."

"Oh, Nicola," my mum sighed, "are you going to go?"

ANOTHER STUPID QUESTION.

"Course," I replied, "he was my boyfriend!"

"Ok, " Mum nodded, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder, "but I'm coming too. You can't go it alone in this kind of situation."

"I won't be alone." I said, "Mel and Chris and Jammy'll be there."

IT WAS JUST LIKE THE OLD DAYS; WHEN I USED TO TRY AND CONVINCE MUM TO LET ME GO DOWN THE BEACH BECAUSE "EVERYONE ELSE WAS GOING".

"Still, " Mum shrugged her neat shoulders, "I'm coming. We'll need to get you a black dress..."

And she stepped into her own little world again; of pretty dresses and fussing.

The End

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