The Funeral

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It was raining for Erik’s funeral, and for some reason this comforted me. I think it had something to do with the fact that not only was my entire family morning the death of my brother, but so was mother nature. As the priest spoke of death and life I watched Erik’s casket knowing all too well that he was in there and not sitting beside me, playing with my dress or making fun of someone else’s.

Silent tears slipped down my face as I thought back to the last funeral I had attended. I was with Erik then, it was my great aunt’s or something like that. I had curled my hair and let it fall down my shoulders. Every time I wasn’t looking Erik would slip his finger into a curl pull it down and make a “boing” sound as he let it go.

Every single time I would smack his hand away, he would laugh and I would scold him. Then he would spin around in his seat and talk to some child behind him, or cough and interrupt everything. That was Erik.

Suddenly I heard my name being called and saw it was time for me to speak about Erik. Brushing away the tears on my face, I walked up the podium and unfolded a piece of paper I had been clutching in my had the entire time I sat there. I looked down at the paper, it was blank, I knew this but I pretended it wasn’t for the moment. Then looking to the sea of people I began to talk.

“So my mom told me to write a speech about Erik. Saying how great he was and how much I loved and missed him. I thought this was a great idea. So I sat down for a few hours and thought about everything Erik. I didn’t write anything though. Not because I don’t love my brother, it’s just when I was attempting to write everything down, I had a thought. I don’t need to write down things I love about Erik, because I know why I love him. I don’t need a piece of paper reminding me.” I raised the paper off the podium and showed it to the crowed before balling it up and throwing it to the priest who tried to catch it but missed.

“So here goes. Erik Avis wasn’t just my brother. He was my twin, my other half. We were best of friends and worst of enemies. He was the greatest thing in the world. He was crazy and terrible and the worst thing you’d would ever come across, but he was also smart and fun and wonderful. There was no one quite like him. Nothing could kill his happiness. He was the life of a party and the soul of a life. Nothing about him was wrong. Nothing about him was bad. Everything about him was loveable. Everything about him was amazing.

“He wasn’t even supposed to die that night at the party. Erik was going to get beer you see. And he actually told me to. But I wanted to stay and dance. It seems really fucking stupid though. If I went I wouldn’t have crashed, I wasn’t even drunk at that point. I could have made it. This was my fault. I should have gone.” Loud sobs exploded from my mouth and I crumpled. My mother and father ran to me then. They held my shoulders and lulling me. Memories flooded into my head, of me and Erik as kids. We were playing outside running around like we were planes. Then we climbed the neighbors fence and took their dog running around the neighborhood until it was dark.

When the funeral came to a close everyone walked outside as Erik’s casket was lifted by assorted men from our family. They put his casket on a platform to be lowered into the ground. As even more tears trickled down my face I dropped a red rose onto his casket. Erik. How can you just leave me like this. What am I supposed to do? And then it hit me.

Just like that.

Quickly I ran away from the cemetery and got into my car. Nothing else mattered. I knew what I had to do. And I needed to do it now!

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