Till Death us Depart

Week 1

I am alive and breathing.

I repeat this mantra to myself daily, ever since I was a little girl, it helps when I am nervous and on the verge of a panic attack. My breath catches and my body shakes; this is all happening on the inside though so no one can even tell.

When I hear a friendly voice greet me at the crystal clear door on my very first day of work I get startled and stare at them, words are on the tip of my tongue although I can't speak.

"Welcome to Grey-stone funeral home, miss..."

"Oh, umm, I'm Scarlett Riley and this is my first day" my voice trails off after that as I continue to repeat my mantra internally.

"Well Scarlett, my name is Max and I will be your partner, in your time working with us."

Odd considering this was a full time position that I'm not going to walk away from.

"Max" I say as if honey is sticking my mouth together, trying to remember the name. I always struggle to remember people's names, especially when I am an anxious mess.

He looks at me, concerned for a split second then brings back his friendly, smiling demeanour.

"I don't know about you but I would rather not spend my day standing in the rain" a nice smile.

"Right, of course, let's go inside" only just realising that it was raining.

I am really in my head today.

We enter into a nice white room, a front desk a few feet from where I am standing, no one is there which is abnormal; there are awards, posters, broachers, business cards and bright lights hanging around the room, computers set up and notes sprawled everywhere taking up most of the desks space. This could be the entrance to heaven I joke to myself, a small smile playing on my lips.

Sarcasm beats being depressed.

Max looks in my direction and gives me another strange look; they are passing by so quickly that I think I am going a little crazy.

"Let me show you around" the smile is close to fading now.

I gulp, what is with this place, I have hardly been here for 10 minutes and am already getting the spooks.

We walk into a room full of chairs lined together standing at attention, a wooden stand at the back with controls and cords hanging from it like overgrown vines, as well as an area towards the front with grey fading curtains and a blank space to put the coffin, oh but there are also TVs – for the slideshows, of course.

My stomach drops when I hear Max mention this is where they hold viewings as well as funerals. The thought of a body, the family, tears and stuffy air makes my throat tighten.

"Are you okay, you look a little pale? Do you need to sit down? I will get you some water". There is the concern again and it makes me feel slightly less weighed down.

I sit on a creaky wooden chair and breathe in and out slowly.

"I'm fine, just a little light headed" my voice is shaking even though he doesn't seem to notice.

"Never worked in a funeral home before, have you?" I sense some joking and laugh slightly.

"I never have, never even been to a funeral either, although I do know quite a bit about the industry from my research and study". I pause, "my brother actually passed away when I was younger, terrible car accident, my parents never held a funeral, just had him buried at the local cemetery. His name comes and goes like in the wind in our short conversations, although other than that he is almost forgotten." I stare at the floor.

"Wow, this would all be a bit intense then". He sits down next to me and pushes his glasses up his nose. How did I not notice his glasses until now, my word?

"Can we just finish the tour for today and then I can come back fresh tomorrow, to get the real work started?" I can't make eye contact right now; I am too ashamed of my weakness. Trying to joke and be funny.

I am constantly supressing old and fading memories.

"Of course Scarlett, that's completely fine" it seems he has been through this before and it's almost comforting.

We walk out of the room, without turning for another glace and continue on to the worst room in this place.

The Morgue.

It almost looks like a warehouse back here leading towards the morgue door, with all the different shades of coffins – bright white, dark browns, some the colour of stained blood and cardboard; mixed tools, ashes in grey splotchy containers, lockers full of uniforms and random items that will never see the light of day again.

It is quiet constricting in here and I see Max hesitate which seems to constrict the air even more.

"Are you sure you want to see this room today, we can wait until tomorrow if that will make you feel more comfortable." Max's hand is lightly resting on the door handle, almost hovering.

"Go ahead and open the door, please Max" I try to keep the nervousness from my voice, keeping my head held high.

Max hesitates and then carefully opens the door.

The room is dim, hospital like and not as big as I thought it would be, dark blue curtains hang from the roof covering a section of the room, I giant metal door on sliding hinges – cold to the touch is beaming and calling to me as if to say 'come closer, have a look'; small metal tools are scattered on the crisp wooden benches, files and books on old stained book shelves – lots of wood and old materials which is quiet pleasing to look at; the smell is quiet strong and has the aroma of death and decay, these places are supposed to be sanitised daily or even hourly depending on how many bodies come and go.

This room is very stimulating to all my senses and is quite a sight to take in; I can't keep my eye on one object for more than a few seconds before something else catches my eye.

I feel a presence behind me and go rigid, hot breath on my neck, weight on my back and shoulders; I turn to my right and see max standing there, eyes fixed on me with cautious suspicion. If Max is beside me then who is behind me? I turn around quickly and to my surprise no one is there. This is only my first day and feelings of regret are beginning to surface.

"Right, well, I think that's enough for today Miss Riley. Come back fresh tomorrow morning at 9am sharp and we will get straight into it." The nice demeanour is gone, replaced by the chill of ice and sternness.

"Thank you for your time today Mr...." I hesitate.

"Mr Green." Oh so cold.

I race back to my car and let out a breath I didn't realise I was holding. What was all that about? It hasn't even been 24 hours and already things are going very wrong. What was in the room with me and why was Max so distant at the end of it? All questions I repeat to myself on the drive home.

Once I unlock my unit I feel extremely relieved walking to my tiny bedroom and fall straight onto my bed, face down and sigh into the pillow.

My thoughts are a scrambled mess and I make a note to myself to buy a note book so I can start keeping a journal and track what is happening at this new job. Maybe I can figure it all out; only with time and patients.