Almost is Never Enough- IM5/Dalton Rapattoni Story (Wattys 2016)

The Funeral

   *One week later*

   I had gotten up early this morning to get ready for the second worst day of my life- the funeral of my parents. I was still living in my parents' house, but right after the burial, I was moving to California with Aunt Terese and my cousin Cole. As I donned my black attire, I relived all of my memories in this house. Getting my first report card, having my first sleepover. Remembering all of this made me cry, and it was even worse when I find a little white picture frame. It was a picture of a four-year-old me and Mum, coloring all over the wall. Mum loved my creativity, and never wanted to stifle it, so when I drew all over the kitchen wall, she took a crayon and scribbled along with me. By now, I was bawling, and barely noticed when a pair of arms appeared around my shoulders.

   "I'm sorry, Lulu," Cole whispered. After my parents died, Cole and his parents flew to New York to plan the funeral and help me pack. Cole's parents insisted on staying at a hotel, but Cole stayed with me at the house to make sure I wasn't alone.

   "I c-c-can't breathe, I m-m-miss them s-so m-much," I sobbed, turning around and hugging Cole. He started to cry a little too, which was very unlike him. Cole was always the tough guy. When he broke his arm when we were 7, he didn't even flinch. Now, seeing him cry really broke my heart. Not only did I lose my parents- he lost his aunt and uncle.   

   "I know, Lulu- No, I don't know. I can't even fathom what this must be like for you, and I'm sorry about that. But anyway I can, I want to help you."

   "Thanks, Cole," I sniffed, grabbing tissues for both of us. "We should be going. It starts in half an hour."

   Cole nodded, taking my hand and walking us to his car. We drove in silence, and when we arrived at the funeral home, I walked in as slowly as my little legs could possibly go. Basically everyone was there already: Aunt Terese, Uncle Scott, Uncle Eugene, Aunt Millicent, Aunt Ellie, Grandpa Miller, Grandma Estelle. Cole's sister Kylie couldn't make it because she had her final exam in college. As I saw all of these people watching me, I self-consciously pulled my black cardigan closer to my body. I had always been insecure about my figure, but now that the only two people who never cared about my physique were gone, I was even more insecure.    

   "Okay, everyone, we're starting," Aunt Terese announced. We all took our seats. As the daughter of the deceased, I was seated in front, and Cole's family sat with me. Our minister, Pastor Green, got up to speak, saying how my parents were "kind, loving people." It made me sick that he used such generic descriptions, things you can say about people you barely know.

   "...And now the daughter, Luna, will say a few words."

   Cole patted my back, and I walked to the little podium, glancing at the big picture of me with my parents, two years before the crash. I took a deep breath before beginning: "My parents were amazingly unique people. They taught me that being different was okay- more than okay, they thought it was beautiful. They raised me to be myself, even if I wasn't what they had wanted me to be. They thought I was special, and they loved me when everyone else thought I was a freak. And I never disappointed them, because they loved me unconditionally, and they were so supportive of me. Not having them anymore breaks my heart. I'm going to miss them so much, but I know that Heaven has gained two more beautiful angels." I was surprised I hadn't started crying by now, but everyone else was looking at me, waiting for the water works to begin. 

   Pastor Green stood up next to me, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Thank you, Luna. You are so strong."

   The funeral ended, so we all took a few minutes to talk, then went to the graveyard to start the burial. This time, nobody asked me to speak. I just watched the coffins being lowered into the ground, my head resting on Cole's shoulder.  As the coffins were halfway buried, I lost it. I was sobbing and wailing like a baby. Nobody moved except for Cole, who was stroking my back and letting me cry into his shirt. 

   I took a deep breath as the burial ended. "I apologize for my disturbance, everyone," I announced. "I understand you're all grieving too, and most of you knew them longer than I did."

   "Luna, they're your parents, you can be upset," Cole said. "In fact, I'd think you were crazy if you weren't upset."

   I nodded softly, sniffing as I walked back to Cole's car with him. I loved my relatives, but right now, I didn't feel like talking to all of them. It was too painful because everything about them reminded me of my parents. The way they all laughed, their smiles, even their casual side-glances that indicated their boredom in conversations. Even Cole reminded me of my mom. They had the same jawline, the same kind and caring nature, and the same unwavering confidence. 

   "Luna, are you almost packed?" Cole asked on the ride home. He  changing the subject to make me feel better. I had always wanted to go see Cole in California, but not as an orphan. If staying in New York forever meant still having my parents, I would have done it.

   "Yeah. I'm all set," I answered casually, as if I hadn't just been sobbing my eyes out.

   "So you're ready to leave tonight?"

   "Sure." Packing-wise, I was totally prepared. I, myself, would never truly be ready to leave my house. My home. Aunt Terese was selling it after I left, and even though I was the owners' daughter, I had no say in the matter. So now, some strangers would be enjoying the comfort of my humble abode, and I would be an outsider in a state to which I had never been. Sure, I had my cousin, but I didn't have any other friends in Cali.

   When we got to the house, I ran into my room and changed into a pair of boxer shorts and a boy's sweatshirt from Aeropostale. (Guy's clothes are WAY more comfortable for lounge wear.) I sat on my bed for the little time I had left in it. Soon, I would be in my new, fully-furnished bedroom in Cole's family's house, feeling the warm California summer breeze through my window. I couldn't believe I had let Aunt Terese sell this place without a fight. In my defense, I had been void of any emotion but sadness for the past week, so I want really up for protests. 

   For a few minutes, I just walked around my room, remembering every little detail. The faded pink walls that we hadn't painted in a decade. The long black canvas curtains on which I had splattered multicolored paint when I was going through my I'm-gonna-be-an-artist phase. Even the purple popsicle stick picture frame I made in nursery school, complete with a photograph of me and my parents with our kitten, Root Beer, who died two months before my thirteenth birthday. 

   As I looked at every little piece of my room, remembering every milestone moment of my childhood that occured here, it felt as if by leaving this house, I was leaving behind a part of myself with it. It was like I was abandoning everything and everyone I cared about- my parents included. I couldn't help it, I broke down. I was sobbing inconsolably, causing Cole to rush into my room.

   "Luna, are you alright?" he asked nervously. He realized I was crying, then hugged me tightly. "Hey, you're alright. I'm right here, Luna."

   "I'm sorry," I whispered.

   "No, don't be sorry, kiddo. Let it out, okay? When I'm here, you don't need to keep your emotions in."

   I sniffed indignantly. "I never keep my emotions in."

   "Yes, you do. But we don't have to discuss that now," Cole said, hugging me again. "Right now, you just need to prepare for everything."

   "Cole! Luna! We're leaving in ten minutes, get your things down here!" Aunt Terese called from downstairs. I wiped my tears, then got two of my suitcases to take downstairs. Cole took one, and I smiled at him gratefully as I took my duffle bag with me.

   "Just breathe," Cole said quietly as we descended the staircase. "Try to think only about positive things."

   "I'll try," I replied, lugging my suitcase into the car, followed by my duffel bag. Cole lifted the other suitcase into the car, then we went back upstairs get my last few things. My pillow, a blanket, and my carryon, filled with my MP3 player, gum, a few books, and a picture of my parents. I looked around my room one last time, then did a walkthrough of my house, making sure I didn't forget anything- at last, that was my excuse for my aunt and uncle. Really, I was saying goodbye to my childhood. To my parents. To my life.

   It took twenty minutes to get to the airport, thirty to board the plane. As we began our departure, I looked at the world below us, whispering the words that gave me a sense of assurance:

"I'll never forget."