After She Fell (Before I Fall, Lauren Oliver FanFiction)

The Funeral

The Funeral 

It’s been almost a week since Sam died and I haven’t been back to school since the disaster on Monday. Sam’s funeral and memorial service is this afternoon and I’ve been dreading and anticipating it all day. I really don’t want to go, but I my body hums with a strange curiosity. I’m sure that even if I tried to stay away, I couldn’t. I need to be there, despite not wanting to think of Sam that way. It’s still hard for me to believe she’s dead even after six days. It still keeps hitting me at seemingly random times and each time it knocks the wind out of me like a physical blow. Sam’s dead. She’s not coming back. She’s not going to graduate and she’s not out there somewhere, studying abroad or living a life separate from mine. She’s not living at all. I find it strange that my mind can’t grasp that. 

I fumble with the tie around my neck, my fingers feeling fat and uncoordinated. By the time I get the tie secured, it’s crooked and in what appears to be an invincible knot below my collar. I start to run my hand through my hair in frustration, but stop when I remember that it took half an hour and a whole tube of gel to get it to semi-presentable. I stare into the full length mirror on the back of my bathroom door and barely recognize myself. My face is pale and drawn and I’ve lost so much weight in the past week that every plane of my face seems more prominent. My eyes looks empty and are slightly bloodshot from how much I’ve cried in the last few days. The crisp black dress pants and white button down shirt, along with the tie that I’ll probably have to cut off, make me feel like a little kid playing dress up. 

“Kent? Are you ready, sweetie?” my mom asks, knocking on the door and pushing it open before I respond. 

I turn to look at her and am shocked when I notice how sad and exhausted she looks. I want to smile for her, but I can’t bring myself too. 

“Yeah, I’m ready.” 

I turn from the mirror, grab my cell phone from the bed and slide it into my pocket before heading towards my mother. 

“You’re tie isn’t right,” my mother says, laughing nervously as she works at the knot at my collar. Both my parents haven’t been sure how to act around me since Sam died. I know they’re worried about me, but every time I’m around them I feel like I’m making them uncomfortable. Though my mom has a tendency to be a bit overprotective, she’s been good about giving me time to myself to process things. 

“I told you a bow tie would have been better,” I say, shrugging. I persuaded my mom to let me go without the suit jacket, but she was adamant about the tie and I didn’t really have it in me to argue anymore. 

“Well judging by this knot, I’m inclined to agree with you,” my mother say, her eyes never leaving the mess I’ve made of the tie. 

My dad yells from the foyer that we’re going to be late if we don’t get going now, so the tie fiasco is put on hold while we all hustle out to the car. We drive in silence and when we pass the stretch of road where Sam died, I shut my eyes and hold my breath, barely resisting the urge to pull my feet up on the seat like a child when driving by a cemetery. When I open my eyes, I catch my father’s worried glance at me in the rearview mirror. I turn away to stare out the window and am grateful when he doesn’t speak. 

The ride to the church seems too short and when the car is parked, I suddenly find myself too terrified to move. I watch dozens of other people weaving their way to the church entrance. I recognize some of the students in my class as well as a few teachers. There’s an astonishing number of people here and I know that most of them didn’t know Sam at all. I expect to feel anger towards them, but I don’t. Death may be the only thing that truly brings people together, even if it’s only for a short time. Nothing in life is as permanent.