Post by Charlie Owens on Dec 14, 2007 19:35:07 GMT
I hadn't left the house in days, maybe weeks, I wasn't sure. But this seemed like a good time to leave.
Most of the family had already come here, Nate had told me in one of his visits so maybe I wouldn't have to speak to anyone. Unless someone came back again, which was likely knowing the family. But I didn't care all that much.
This was important.
I sit in the first row of pews, eyes on the fraying knees of my jeans. They'd have wanted people to wear jeans when they came here, not proper funeral clothes. That was one thing I could do for them now.
I pick idly at the fibres on my t-shirt sleeve, still watching the denim on my knee as if it's going to do something. No one else was here, I knew that, but I didn't feel alone here, not alone enough to do the weird muttering to the corpses thing that people do at funerals.
Because they weren't dead, not in my head. In my head they were still here, conscious. If I started to talking to them, they'd hear it which may be comforting to some but not to me. To me it made me feel stupid.
I look up after a long moment, eyes skating over the top of each coffin in turn.
Jack's empty one, reminding myself of him ordering me about. Telling me to make him sandwiches.
Keira's, she was always a good sister. I never told her that, of course I didn't. She was my sister, you never tell your sister that they're okay really to ignore all the insults you've hu,rled at them during your adolescents. I think she knew that anyway. She was just like that.
I have to look away from the twins coffins almost immediately. My niece and nephew. They reminded me of Jen.
Then my eyes fall on the last coffin, Noah. I always did like Noah. And he did look very much like Nate. Nate and Noah, it didn't work when it was just Nate. Maybe Noah was lonely in heaven because he missed Nate as much as Nate missed Noah. Or maybe it doesn't matter in heaven. Or maybe there isn't one anyway.
Nate had been seeing me a lot, he was the only one I'd seen lately. I sort of missed human contact, missed my family, but not that much. Not when I just didn't want to get out of bed in the morning, not when I was too miserable to do anything. I couldn't even pinpoint the exact cause of my depression anymore, I just knew it was there. I'd never really thought of it as an illness, but now I understood why it was. Now I definitely understood.
I pick at my shirt again, flicking a stray strand of cotton to the floor as I return my gaze back to my knee, allowing a soft sigh to escape my lips.
This is a sad state of affairs, Charlie. A very sad state of affairs.
Most of the family had already come here, Nate had told me in one of his visits so maybe I wouldn't have to speak to anyone. Unless someone came back again, which was likely knowing the family. But I didn't care all that much.
This was important.
I sit in the first row of pews, eyes on the fraying knees of my jeans. They'd have wanted people to wear jeans when they came here, not proper funeral clothes. That was one thing I could do for them now.
I pick idly at the fibres on my t-shirt sleeve, still watching the denim on my knee as if it's going to do something. No one else was here, I knew that, but I didn't feel alone here, not alone enough to do the weird muttering to the corpses thing that people do at funerals.
Because they weren't dead, not in my head. In my head they were still here, conscious. If I started to talking to them, they'd hear it which may be comforting to some but not to me. To me it made me feel stupid.
I look up after a long moment, eyes skating over the top of each coffin in turn.
Jack's empty one, reminding myself of him ordering me about. Telling me to make him sandwiches.
Keira's, she was always a good sister. I never told her that, of course I didn't. She was my sister, you never tell your sister that they're okay really to ignore all the insults you've hu,rled at them during your adolescents. I think she knew that anyway. She was just like that.
I have to look away from the twins coffins almost immediately. My niece and nephew. They reminded me of Jen.
Then my eyes fall on the last coffin, Noah. I always did like Noah. And he did look very much like Nate. Nate and Noah, it didn't work when it was just Nate. Maybe Noah was lonely in heaven because he missed Nate as much as Nate missed Noah. Or maybe it doesn't matter in heaven. Or maybe there isn't one anyway.
Nate had been seeing me a lot, he was the only one I'd seen lately. I sort of missed human contact, missed my family, but not that much. Not when I just didn't want to get out of bed in the morning, not when I was too miserable to do anything. I couldn't even pinpoint the exact cause of my depression anymore, I just knew it was there. I'd never really thought of it as an illness, but now I understood why it was. Now I definitely understood.
I pick at my shirt again, flicking a stray strand of cotton to the floor as I return my gaze back to my knee, allowing a soft sigh to escape my lips.
This is a sad state of affairs, Charlie. A very sad state of affairs.
