random stroy oneshots

Funeral

Tw: death, funerals, Christianity

      I was always a good Christian girl. I believed in God. I believed in going to heaven after you died. But I couldn't be further from heaven. Or Hell. Well, maybe I am close to Hell. I mean, it sure does feel that way. In a sick sense, I wish I was in Hell. 

      Some were quiet; some could be heard wailing for miles. My mother was the one crying so loud it felt as if your eardrums were shattering. But I don't blame her. My father, on the other hand, fell into the quiet group. Staring at his brown, almost black, slacks. His eyes raw and puffy. 

      It shouldn't be this way. Parents, they're not supposed to go through this. 

     "She was only 16." A tall, but old, man I had never met before spoke. He stood next to a podium, a Bible lying on It, "But let us not forget, she is in a better place now. A place we all know as Heaven.'

      "Bullshit." The words fell out of my mouth. No one batted an eye.

      "We all know what we have gathered here, today for. The tragic death of Julia Simmons." 

      You know, I hope my tombstone is pretty. I don't want a huge one, just a decent-sized one. I want it to be unique.

      Unique. A word that all but perfectly describes the situation I'm stuck in. The situation that I've been thrusted into just a little less than a month ago. All because a stupid seat belt didn't work. 

      At least it didn't hurt. I was so confused when it happened. I knew I had gotten injured. I just didn't feel it. For a moment, I thought it was due to the adrenaline. However, tripping over your own bleeding body makes you realize it's something else. Something bigger. 

      I remember being frozen. I used to read stories where someone sees something tragic happen, and instead of screaming or running. They freeze. I never understood that. Your body was supposed to have these instincts. Instincts that protect your body from getting hurt. The same ones that made some people push others in the way of danger, just so they could live. 

      I screamed at myself to move. I screamed at myself to move when I saw my father running towards my body. I screamed at myself to move when I heard him screaming my name. 

      I couldn't move until the EMS had arrived. When I realized I could move again, I followed them as they carried my body into their vehicle. It didn't dawn on me that I was dead until the words came out of their mouth. 

    I watched my father fall to his knees, wails even louder than the ones my mother was emitting just seconds ago fell from his mouth. I covered my ears. Tears now dripping off of my body. I screened various shut-ups that no one even heard. 

Why did this have to be happening to me of all people.