I had never cried at a funeral and this one would be no different.
It was the same routine each time. People bawling, "meaningful" speeches, and tasteless food. I have been to countless of these, used to it at this point. But I couldn't help wondering why my relatives seem to drop like weak flies around me.
First it was my parents, though I don't pay any thought to their death for it makes me feel strong emotion. Next, it was my grandparents. All four of them died in a gas leak. They were followed by my Uncle Terry whose death is still a mystery to us all. Lastly, My Aunt Dawn, her frail dead body lay in the casket in front of me.
I've learned that it's customary to bring some sort of present to this, even though the person is dead so I see no point to it. It wasn't like they would ever even see the gift. Regardless I placed the delicate black rose that lay in my hand at the head of the darkly stained box and turned away carelessly.
"Are you ok Thana?" I heavily sighed at the sound of some unknown stranger that somehow knew my name. I could feel the grasp of my freedom slipping away. Some person always had to ask me the question, almost as if they thought that I was somehow affected by some idiot's perilous fate. If it wasn't my fault they died then I could not give a care in the world.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
The brunette middle-aged woman in front of me awkwardly scratched her neck, surprised by my apathetic answer, "I just thought that you had spent some time with Dawn."
"You would be right. I stayed with her for quite a while."
The girl sniffed quietly before opening her mouth to answer again, "Oh ok."
After closer inspection, I quickly realized that the girl standing in front of me had a red and puffy face. She had obviously been crying recently, wet streaks still left down her neck.
The overwhelming emotion placed in front of me made me scratch my arm and closely inspect the tile underneath my feet.
"Well I must go now, my condolences."
Pivoting on the balls of my feet , I quickly strode over to the Instagram perfect family across the hall.
The Johnsons had been so nice to take in a poor and so- called damaged girl. They were considered to be the saints of our town. But I knew that the only reason they let me stay with them was because they were in my family's will, and were promised a hefty amount of money if they took me in.
"Oh hello Thana, what do you want?" Mrs. Johnson's attitude towards me was definitely sour. Maybe for the reason that my waist- length raven black hair and pale skin differed so much towards the tanned blondes of her family. Anywhere I was with them I stuck out like a sore thumb, gathering a fair share of strange looks. Yet I knew my mom cared about the Johnson's so I maintained my calm demeanor towards them.
"I would like to know when we will leave."
"Can't you wait any longer? We've only been here for 1 hour and you haven't shown any sadness. What is wrong with your messed up brain that you believe a FUNERAL is boring?!" Her raised voice made me flinch back, squeezing the muscles along my eyebrows.
"I will be walking home, when you leave please drive to find me."
Mrs. Johnson's voice was louder now, stringing a sentence of insults together at my face. "I should've known you'd turn out just like your spoiled rotten parents. You will never amount to anything Thana."
Before my ears could be harmed anymore I calmly locked my hands behind my back and walked out of the double doors, multiple crying faces pausing their conversations to glance at the commotion. It was strange to see Mrs. Johnson worked up so quickly. Sure she had had her share of arguments directed towards me but never in public where people could see us.
Mrs. Johnson had always had a close relationship with Dawn, maybe that was the reason she was so wound up today.
Nevertheless I was not harmed by her meaningless words, I mean, I had grown up with them. I was almost 8 when my parents died, dropping me off in a hell hole called Johnson's Manor. It was full of sticky, rich kids who always wanted to rub their grimy fingers along my bedsheets. The youngest, Mirabelle, had once thrown a fit because she didn't like the way my hair was braided. Obviously her mom took her precious angel's side and forced me to take out the long plait that I spent hours weaving onto my head.
The breezy, humid air hit my face as I pushed onto the stained doors of the church, instantly refreshing me. I'd almost forgotten what real air felt like after being stuffed into a cramped area with aliens.
I knew my way to the house from here and I should be fine. I whistled a tune from a show I had watched as a kid, kicking the rough rocks on the grey sidewalk as I went. Taking a right turn I found a patch of strikingly green grass, scattered with white dandelions swaying in the breeze.
Mentally weighing the pros and cons of stopping, I decided that a small detour would cost nothing at all for the Johnson's would be there at least 2 more hours longer, trying to apologize for my "unruly" behavior as they usually did.
It was always the same excuses. "She's mentally ill" "She's still recovering from the accident" They said those things almost like I did not stand right beside them, mentally rolling my eyes. I didn't care though. No matter what absurd rumours were passed around, they would never be able to touch my heart.
I plopped down onto the prickly grass and layed flat on my back. This patch had been sitting in the sun for a while, making a warm surface to be on. The fluffy clouds in the sky slowly crawl by, reminding me of the marshmallow fluff sandwiches I used to eat as a kid. The marshmallow would ooze, and my mom would get me a napkin while laughing at the mess I had made.
My mom... she was gorgeous. Light hair and stunning brown eyes that drew in any person. I was the opposite, I have my dad's genes. Black hair, fair skin dotted with freckles, and dark emerald green eyes. When I was younger I used to sit outside with lemon in my hair to try and lighten my hair to look more like my mom, obviously it never worked but a girl could dream.
I often wondered why my mom was so drawn to my dad. They looked at eachother like they were the only ones in the world and nothing else mattered. As a child I often dreamed of that kind of relationship. One where you could steadily rely on your partner to help you through whatever.
The sound of steady impact and clicking made me snap out of the daydream I hadnt realized I slipped into. I raised my head and leaned forward on my elbows, scanning to see where the sound was coming from.
The clicking seemed to come from a dalmatian that was trotting down the pavement. It had a leash attached to its collar which led to a beach blonde tanned boy. He was skillfully balancing on a pale green longboard, his dog gently pulling him along. This boy had a serene look on his face, as if he had not a single care in the world. His body rocked back and forth, making the longboard go in smooth wavy motion. Just from the way he carried himself made it apparent that his coordination was spot on. I hardly doubted he would stay up and not fall.
The blue shorts he wore that had pink hawaiian hibisuces printed on them and the loose white t-shirt added to his calm, go with the flow vibe. His golden blonde hair fell in a sweeping motion, ending at the tips of his ears. Unlike most guys I had encountered before, he had bracelets scattered across his wrists, and from where I sat I could barely make out each bracelet was a different color. Surprisingly across his neck lay a gorgeous necklace that had pearls lined in neat rows, they gleamed with each movement of his tanned body.
I'd been so busy picking out each of his features and inspecting him I hadn't realized he'd slowed to a stop a couple yards in front of me, a toothy smile laying upon his face. He even had a Hollywood smile which shone from the distance he stood away from me.
The leash that held his dog was let slack, though the boy still held on the dog now had enough length to trot up to me. I'd only dealed with cats before so I slightly cringed away from the incoming dalmatian. Yet, it still came right up to me like we'd known eachother a long while. The boy suddenly realized that he had let go of the leash and ran up to grab him before the curious creature got any closer to me.
"Sorry, I don't know why I let go." His voice was soothing yet energetic, he seemed like the kind of person to light up a room. Yet my room needed no light, I much rather preferred the isolating darkness so I shrugged at him and got up to walk away.
"Are you mute?" I stopped in my tracks and turned to look at him, his question catching me off guard. People often were not this straightforward with me
"No, I am not mute." My tone teetered on the line between stern and accusing, being somehow offended by the label.
"Oh, sorry."
I shrugged again and tried to escape one last time, putting my feet in front of eachother slightly faster than before. He must have learned his lesson because this time there were no questions or attempts to start the conversation once more.
I was relieved at the leave I was presented with and I should have just continued walking to the Johnson's from there yet I found myself strolling towards the school's playground.
The rusty swings and large plastic play structures had not changed a bit since I'd been there in elementary. The only difference that I noticed was that the yellow paint that had lined the edges of the woodchip area was no longer there, replaced by a striking blue. The gravel was still rough, reminding me of the thousands of times I had seen kids fall and scrape their knees. One time I'd even tried to help a boy that had fallen in my 2nd grade recess. That was my first mistake. He had yelled at me and made sure the whole grade heard it. My second mistake was trying to apologize. From that day I vowed never to apologize to anyone again, people did not care for my emotions so why should I care for theirs.
The smell of metallic iron overwhelmed me as I dropped down onto the closest swing, the creaking metal bringing back waves of nostalgia.
My hands gripped the chains on either side of me as I pumped my legs, trying helplessly to create some sort of motion. Yet as Newton's first law states, an object without motion will stay without motion.
I eventually gave up and let my body just sag. It was quite relaxing to just hang there and push away the worries that took over my mind from time to time.
The Johnson's had a habit of going to these extravagant parties occasionally. I was brought along as a coat holder so their hands were open to generously accept the glasses of wine they were given, often spilling them. When you grow up in situations like that you train yourself to fall asleep whenever you can and wherever you can for there was no time for sleeping at home or bedtime stories when you had to handle two drunk adults. Maybe that or the fact I was avoiding the hell hole made it so easy to fall asleep on that swing.