I've been to many funerals and I've seen the wails from women and men. I've watched the day turn from sunny and alive to grey and dead. At those funerals, I never really knew the person all I knew was his or her name. I never got to know how wonderful this person was or how loving and joyous this person was. Or how this person saved animals from a wildfire or something along those lines. Those were one of the things I heard at a funeral.
I just stood in-between my parents holding on to my mother's hand and watched the casket go down. With no care in the world, I never cried I couldn't cry. Why cry for someone I didn't actually know?
But today is different, today the sun shines inappropriately it's supposed to be gloomy like in the movies, but this isn't the movies, but I can't help but want to shake myself from this. I want this to be a movie I want the director to say cut that's all for the day.
That isn't going to happen I know it isn't, but somehow something within me still can't accept it. I want to fight death, and bring back Ava. Finding the murderer won't do me justice.
I slip on my seamless black dress that sits right above my knees. The dress cuts circulation in my arms I pull at the sleeves, but nothing is as tight as my thick cornrows. My big brown eyes are pulled back giving me deep set small eyes. I shove my umbrella in my side bag.
My new flats rub on to my heel bone making it so uncomfortable.
The day only gets brighter and I know I will wilt away.
“Nora,” mom knocks on the door. “You ready, we have to go.” The door creaks open and she steps in wearing the same dress the only difference is the dress shows the shape of her boobs. Unlike mine that makes it seem like I'm twelve all over again.
Curse you small boobs.
“You look beautiful.” I smile at her in the mirror. Her headscarf tries to swallow her face, but it doesn't, it sits around her perfectly showing off her incandescent melanin skin.
“You look beautiful too,” she walks over to me placing her hands on my shoulder.
Her Jasmine scent comforts me I'm glad mom's here with me. I'm glad she's here for all the moments where I know my lungs will fail me and my knees will fall week.
“It's going to be okay.” She wraps her arms around me. I hold on tightly to her arms. She gives me certainty, even though nothing is certain her embrace does that.
“Do you know what you going to say at the funeral?”
“I did write down a few things, but it's all over the place I have so much to say but I don't even know how to put it in order.”
“I'm sure it will be okay,” she unwraps her arms just say what's from your heart.
I turn to face her. “Well, what if it doesn't make sense.”
“If it's from your heart it will make its way to all the other hearts today and they will understand you, it will make sense.”
How is she so confident in me? I've rewritten the speech so many times that the paper has torn through. I've rolled the paper into balls causing more litter in my room than the earth it's self. It still doesn't make sense.
“How's the pills treating you?” She looks over at my pink dressing table? The bottle of pills remain open but truthfully speaking I haven't even taken one pill, since Dr Nkosi and Dr Jamieson have increased my dosage.
“It's okay.” I lie. Why do I have to keep taking those pills it's been a long time since I've had major panic attacks. I feel fine. I don't know why those doctors thought I would get a panic attack from Ava passing. How is that even possible? I understand going back into depression but a whole panic attack come on.
“As long as they treating you okay keep taking them.
You have no need to panic okay she says your speech will be great,” she adds again.
I'm not ready to say goodbye maybe that's why my speech is crappy. I have no words. What exactly do you say to the dead? Can they even hear you? Is Ava's ghost going go be in service with us?
“Let's get going we don't want to be late.”
I sigh this is truly going to be goodbye. I don't want to say goodbye but life has given me no choice.
Arriving at the Voice Of God Church. I sink into the leather seats watching groups of people wearing black huddled in different groups. Some stand near the stairs that lead to the large wooden doors of the church. Others stand in the parking lot. And the rest just walk in the church with their shoulders slouched.
Dad finds parking, mom unbuckles her seatbelt and the doors unlock. They step out, but I stay stuck to my seat. Nothing about today is beautiful even the flock of birds that we saw flying together as we drove here can't make this day any better.
I never imagined this. I always thought Ava and I would graduate high school together, probably live together and die together holding on to each other. Not this. Life ruined my daydreams but a huge part of me will never stop thinking of what could have been. In my mind she's still here, we're on the beach listening to her favourite band the Arctic monkeys. She lays on the soft peach sand wearing her orange swimsuit. Her hair is filled with speckles of sand the sun rays shine directly on her. She smiles looking at the deep blue ocean.
And I'm next to her laying there.
“Baby.” Mom's muffled voice says as she knocks on the window.
I jerk forward and unbuckle my seat belt. In my daydreams she's alive but I have to face reality now.
I open the door and the warm air hits my face along with the sun rays that burn my scalp. Dad locks the car mom holds my hand squeezing it tightly decreasing circulation in my hand.
We pass a few unknown faces and head up the stairs. Each step becomes heavier like I'm tied to the bottom of the ocean. Sweat forms under my pits the sun just will not show any mercy. Dad pushes the large wooden doors open, they creak. We walk within the halls passing designed Bible verse walls and a wide range of green pot plants.
Nothing much has changed in this church. The walls are still white with small cranks in them. The pot plants are still dying.
The wooden flooring still creaks at certain areas when walked over. And the yellow double doors leading to the Sunday school for kids are still covered with hand-drawn pictures made by the children.
Ava and I used to play tag in this hall we were supposed to be with the other kids in Sunday school church, but we always found a way to ditch. We would ask whoever was looking after us to go to the bathroom and never come back, but we did get into trouble. We had to memorise the ten commandments or some verse in Psalm. We did it with no problem and still played tag in the halls.
As teens we outgrew tag and we outgrew Sunday school so we were now part of the adults. Since our parents were also with us in the service there was no escape, but we sat next to each other at the back of the church.
Whispered to each other about anything really while the Pastor preached. Ameria later moved here and joined us in our little mischief.
Dad pushes open the black double doors and in we walk in. The pews are filled with family members and friends. All holding on to each other or holding on to tissue.
Familiar green eyes similar to Ava's spot us, it's Ava's mom. She throws a small smile and walks right over to us. Her usual black bob curls are straightened. She passes through the pews clamping her hands together.
“Thank you for coming.” She takes my mother's hands into her gloved ones. “This means so much to me,” she smiles and her eyes become glossy.
Mom takes her in for a hug. “You know Ava was like a daughter to me.” She says and Mrs Grey sniffs and a muffled wail makes its way out of her mouth.
Mrs Grey pulls out the hug
“I just can't believe she's gone that some monster would do this to my angel.”
Her tears run down her face like a never-ending flowing river. Her nose becomes red and stuffy.
Mom rubs her back and heavy concern sits in her eyes.
Mrs Grey turns to face me and again the tears flow down. “Oh, Nora,” her voice cracks and she falls into my arms. She's beyond broken, she's slowly perishing from all this. Somehow the shattered pieces of her heart is piercing into my chest.
“Let's go to the ladies room.” Mom pulls her off my shoulders and they make their way out the doors.
Dad stands awkwardly looking around the church with his hands in his pocket. I wipe off my watery eyes and sit down in one of the wooden dark pews.
The church begins to fill up with more family members and friends I presume. Many unfamiliar faces. It would be great to see Ameria or even Jake right now.
“Excuse me, honey” A frail old lady with grey short curls. approaches me. “Were you friends with Ava?” She asks with her milky grey watery eyes staring right at me. This must be Ava's grandmother the resembles is just on point.
“Uh yeah.”
“Well okay, then you should be sitting at the third pew over there where all her other friends will be” she points at the empty pew.
“Thanks,” I stand up from my seat and she gives me a small weak smile stretching out her deepened wrinkles.
I sit on the pew still alone. Where is everyone else? I get it they didn't want to come to school, but this is her funeral. They have no choice but to show up. They have to show up the church keeps filling up and everyone's finding their sits. I know Ameria will be here she's just probably running late doing her makeup.
“Hey” I turn around to a soft familiar voice.
“Ameria” I stand up and hug her inhaling in the marijuana scent.
“Bruh are you stoned?” I pull out of the hug and dip down her shades to reveal her red eyes.
She quickly pulls them up. “Yes “and I'm not the only one so hush.”
I roll my eyes, “don't tell me Sky, Jake and AJ are coming stoned.”
“Uh yeah who do you think we are but AJ ain't coming here like that. Haven't spoken to him since.... You know last week.”
“Yeah,” I look down at her black peep-toe wedges. “How's Jake holding up?”
Ameria sighs “he is just not himself he can't even sleep at night. During the week I had to climb up his bedroom window and just chill with him for the night. I think he's traumatised.”
“I would be too,” I say “he did find her.”
“Yeah anyways.” Ameria sits down “how you been?”
“Honestly, I still can't believe all this happened. Like it's so messed up and heartbreaking. I don't think I will get over this.” “How about you?” I ask hoping to get Ameria to open up about her feelings.
“I'm doing fine.” She says.
“You sure?”
“Yeah” she nods her head.
What does fine even mean? Why won't she just open up and tell me? she's here high as a kite so it's obvious she's not doing fine, but I won't push her to talk. We all managing our grief in our ways maybe her way is just blocking it out, but what's my way of handling is. I've gone to school when I know damn well I should have stayed home but I couldn't just stay home and cry. Life is going on just because Ava's gone doesn't mean the world will stop spinning. I have to go on even it means putting my feelings aside for a while.