Today is Sonya's funeral. Earlier A few body guards, Daniella, and Levy went to pick up her body. I couldn't do it. I knew I wouldn't be able to see her like that in front of people, I knew I would need to be alone with her.
I have to change her into her dress.
She's laying on the table wearing a black t-shirt and black shorts. Her hair is as long as it was when I first met her, mine has grown a lot since then. Her eyes are closed but under her eyelids I know her black eyes are resting. Her skin is as pale as ever but now it has a hint of blue to it.
The sight of her makes me cry. She looks the same. The exact same. I feel like this would be so much less painful if she had grown a few inches of hair or hadn't been so pale when she was alive. It makes me think all the memories I have with her are with a dead body. But she didn't act as dead as she looked, though, she was the most alive person anyone could meet.
I pull myself together enough to take off her shirt and shorts and grab her white dress. She loved white, it was her favorite color. This dress was her favorite, out of all the beautiful gowns she made, she chose the most simple, easy to make dress to be her favorite. And it had a right to be. Somehow, in its simplicity, it was still a wonder to look at. She had a way with clothes. She knew how to make them all wonderful.
I slip the dress on her. She looked much better in it when she was alive but that's just me, anyone who didn't know her will think she looks as beautiful as ever.
Once the dress is on I lay her flat on the table and cry over her again. I'm not ready to say goodbye, I feel like not having a funeral has made me able to think "she's still alive" in a small part of my brain but I know that's not true now that I don't have things to occupy me. I know she's dead and burying her won't change anything.
I want her to spring to life and make fun of me for crying. I want her to grab my hand and tell me to get over it, life goes on. But she won't, because she's dead.
_______
I put on a long black dress with black heels. I put my hair half up, half down, add a necklace, and cry some more as I stare at myself in the mirror. Sonya would have wanted me to look good at her funeral I just wish she wasn't dead. I wish I was getting ready for her wedding or birthday, anything but her funeral.
I dry my eyes and stand up from my vanity. I pull my dress down and take a deep breath. Then I open my door and head to the garden, where we're burying Sonya.
It's a sunny day all kinds of different colored flowers scatter the area, there are white foldable chairs laid out in rows, there's an isle in the middle splitting the rows of chairs and leading to the pulpit where Sonya's body is laying, open casket. I walk down the isle straight to where Sonya's body is. I saw it just half an hour ago but seeing it again feels unreal. A wave of sadness washes over me as I realize, once again, she's not just sleeping. She's dead, gone. Forever.
I put my hand on her folded hands. "I'm going to miss you forever," I say with a sad laugh. Once I'm done, I turn to my right and make my way to the front row of chairs, where the family is supposed to sit.
Soon, everyone else comes pouring in. Her 'family row' extends to three rows. Other people come in too, some I don't know but some of my other friends do, some I do know. I sent out invites to anyone who knew her and cared about her.
Sonya's funeral is everything but empty. Some people have to stand, some people sit in the grass with the flowers. I never knew so many people knew and cared about her, but I'm not surprised.
I make my way to the small stage with a pulpit on it, Sonya's casket is resting bellow it. The microphone at the pulpit is angled perfectly for me. I rest the cards with my speech on them on the pulpit and take a breath.
I look at the audience and smile. "Sonya would have been happy all of you came. She was always one for big extravagant parties and she loved going over the top with anything she did wether it was school work or a dress she was working on, she did everything she could to make it nothing less than perfection. She helped as many people as she could and was never mean to anyone. She was the type of person who would help you if you dropped all your things in the middle of a crowded hallway. She would defend you even when it got her in trouble, she showed her love in the dresses she made. Nobody will ever compare to her. Nobody will ever replace her. I know she's probably laughing at us all right now, wondering why we're crying when she's told us so many times to party at her funeral, because that's the type of person she was." I give a sad smile and wipe the tear that slipped out of my eye before making my way back to my seat.
Jody goes up next. His speech isn't as long as mine but it's just as meaningful. A few more people go up to give speeches about Sonya before the preacher goes to the pulpit and begins his sermon.
Once he's done, one bodyguard closes the casket and four other bodyguards lift Sonya and her casket up by each corner of it and carry her to where she's being buried, deeper into the garden. We all follow. The hole is already dug and ready for them to lower her into. I squeeze Haydens hand as I watch them slowly put her into the ground.
Once she is down, the bodyguards step away. White and red roses are passed out to the crowd and we throw them on top of the casket one by one.
Everyone starts to leave for the reception but I can't move. I'm frozen in place, bolted to the ground. Hayden is the only one that stays with me. Jody, Mateo, Noah and the others left, they can't stand here forever.
I stare at the square hole in the ground and lean on Hayden.
"She deserved better," I say disassociated, I feel myself starting to drift away from reality.
"She's in a better place now. Imagine if she had to live through what we did."
"She would be alive."
"She would be traumatized. She wouldn't be the same person, like none of us are the same person."
"She's in a better place," I say. I'm saying it to myself but Hayden still agrees with me. "She's in a better place," I say to myself again, this time I'm starting to believe it.
"Let's go eat," Hayden says after we've been staring at the square hole in the ground for what feels like hours.
He pulls gently at my arm and I don't fight him.
Word count: 1278
12-27-23
12:51 am
(Not revised)
GUYS. ITS. OVER. 😭😭😭
Special chapters coming soon thoughhhhh 🫣🫣🥳😜
Maybe I'll even do an epilogue 🤭