The Funeral Style

Epilogue

Epilogue 

I drop onto the bed beside Elias, both of us so exhausted the only thing I crave is a few hours of sleep. The last few hours have been nothing but smelling stomach acid, touching stomach acid, as our own stomachs churned in nausea.

We say nothing, and stare at the ceiling, knowing it'd do no good to fall asleep, as we will be needed in a few minutes time.

As though on cue, the bedroom door opens only slightly enough for a tiny body to slip through. Both our heads turn to the opening of the door, to see a black haired three-year-old, smiling sheepishly at the both of us.

Elias speaks first, "Aurora." He says, the exhaustion so evident in his tone, "Darling we told you to go to sleep."

"I drew up on bed, I will sleep here."

I sink deeper into the mattress. "It's your turn." I tell him.

Elias sits up, "This is the seventh time, what are you eating you foul child."

"I eat abble." She mimicked herself eating as she began to scoop the air into her mouth.

Elias's head shoots to me incredulously, "You fed her apple slices when you know she's sick?"

I throw my hands up, "She was begging me for it what was I supposed to do? Let her starve? It's been three days since she's ate something solid."

"The doctor told you-"

"She's taking medicine, and her fever is gone."

Aurora makes her way over to Elias's side of the bed and raised her tiny arms up for him to pick her up.

He did so, and she crawled over him and pulled the blankets up until she was comfortably under them, laying between me and my husband. Moments later, the door opened again and another, but slightly taller, figure slipped through the opening.

"Aramis." I stare at the pale boy standing before me, he doesn't bother to greet us as he hoists himself up onto the bed and snuggles in beside his sister. It is then that he actually turns to me.

"Aurora threw up all over her bed." He informs us.

"I know," I say, "and your father is going to go clean it." I shoot Elias a glare, and he only leans back, allowing Aurora to lay against him.

"You fed her the apple; I suggest it is only fair you clean the mess."

"Yes, but I also cleaned Aramis's mess last, so it is, as it is only fair, your turn."

"Ahh, but the children are so comfortable in my arms."

"Elias-"

"Avril-"

"Mom, Father," The door opens wide now, and the tallest of the bunch comes running in, "There is throw up all over Aurora's bed. It looks really gross."

"We know, Bosten." Elias and I say in unison.

Bosten, though only seven, was tall, and thin, and built just like Elias. He climbed into the bed beside Aramis and pulled the blanket roughly over him.

At this point, there was barely any room for Elias and I, but none of us bothered to get up.

I was laying on the very edge of the bed but wrapped my arm over Bosten. Elias's long arm was over both Aurora, and Aramis, and though there was a fresh mess of half-digested apple slices and stomach acid in just the other room, we push the thought out of our minds, and stayed with our children for a few moments, -at least, until someone decides to heave up more rancid body fluid.