A Ghost Encounter: My Time with Simon "Ghost" Riley

Part Eighty-Five: The Funeral - Part One

Two weeks went by pretty quickly.

The days were nearly rinse and repeat: train, eat, meet with Captain Price for check-ins, sleep and spending time with Simon, of course.

Since coming back from our mission, Simon has been sweet but also sort of...quiet.

He's normally quiet but it seems more so now than ever.

Even in moments of subtle bickering, he just lets me win and moves on. And the Simon I know would never back down from a fight, especially with me.

6:00 AM

Soap's funeral is today, which is most likely the reason for Simon's taciturnity.

The funeral is scheduled to begin at 10:30 AM at a Veteran's Cemetery that's located not too far from the base.

Captain Price requested Military Funeral Honors, which means our team will fold and present a burial flag to Soap's family members—what little he has—and there will be a playing of Taps.

All of 141 has been on edge the last couple of days, rightfully so. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't on edge, too. There is a flurry of emotions stirring inside of me: grief, anxiety, sadness, tension.

I've never been good with funerals.

My father's funeral was overwhelmingly grave and sorrowful. I also recall it being massive. People nearly filled every inch of the room and the service felt like it lasted a lifetime.

Maybe I'm perceiving it wrong. I was 9 years old. But even then, I remember finding a dark corner in the church to take cover from the tears and overbearing adults crying that they were so sorry for my loss.

My sister's funeral was far more intimate, which made it worse.

By this time, my mother and stepfather had nearly completely isolated us from our family and most outsiders.

The funeral consisted of us three and my sister in a coffin. Far fewer tears and no condolences.

Outwardly, the funeral was far more tolerable than my father's. Inwardly—emotionally—though, it was one of the hardest days of my life.

6:33 AM

Seems I got lost in thought...

I already readied myself for the funeral. I'm fitted in my Dress Uniform, as will all the members of 141 be. My hair is tied back in a tight braid. I opted for no make-up.

I thought of what to bring for the committal service and settled on a bundle of thistles.

The Thistle is the symbol of Scottland which symbolizes devotion, strength, determination, and bravery—everything that Soap was.

The team is supposed to meet in the briefing room at 9:00 AM.

I finish gathering myself, and my things, and leave my quarters. I shut the door slowly behind me and make the few steps it takes to be directly in front of Simon's door.

I knock on his door and wait.

Silence consumes me for a few moments until I hear footsteps from behind his door. When he opens it, to my surprise, he looks disheveled...

And like he's been drinking.

I spot the drinking glass filled with what is most likely whiskey clasped in his hand and say, "Busy morning?"

I arch a brow but his only response is a soft groan and stepping outside of the door frame to welcome me in.

After I enter his quarters, Simon practically slams the door behind us.