The Funeral
There was no reason I should still be standing around like this. I look stupid doing this... at least the funeral is coming to an end.
The sun was just starting its slow descent across the sky. I watched as the pale gold light danced through the branches of the surrounding trees. It illuminated everything it touched with a soft glow. It was as if time were passing me by while I stood here and the sun kept on shining. The air was warm and smelled of flowers. There was some kind of peace about it all that made it peaceful. I could feel myself relaxing a little.
I’d been standing there for hours and no one had bothered me. I thought about walking away but decided against it. It's more courteous to stay and pay respects to father, even though I wasn't really close with him in his last five years of life. None of us were. But hey, it's also pleasant to see some of my older sisters again. I mean, they did leave the family behind after all. But they always come back eventually. I'll be okay.
The problem with being born in quick succession to each other is that once one leaves the nest, the others are quick to follow. Most of my older siblings have left the nest. Put emphasis on "most". Leni was legally ordered by court to be co-dependent since her developmental disability proved detrimental to her living on her own. As for Lincoln... the poor bastard is almost 22 and still refuses to be an adult. The idiot won't even get a job like a real adult. Lola and Lana are in their senior year of highschool which means they are next in line to separating from the household. These thoughts lead me to one question...
Why haven't I moved out yet?
I'm only 15, yet I have a doctorate in physics, and was expected by my friends and family to apply for a job at NASA. The only problem is I haven't been able to do that because I've been too busy doing drugs and sneaking out with my boyfriend to make out in the alley behind the closed down Chinese restaurant.
What kind of person spends so much time in the shadows when you're supposed to be looking for jobs and not fucking around with your boyfriend? I didn't want the whole world knowing what a worthless piece of shit I am. But I know that it's hopeless. I was the gifted one. I was supposed to have a so-called "bright future" ahead of me. I guess I'm just one of life's many disappointments.
As I thought about this, the first tear began rolling down my face. I didn't once choke up at the eulogy or when dad was being lowered into his grave, but now I couldn’t help it. And, honestly, I don’t care. The world can go screw itself. Let them think what they want. If people want to blame anyone, let them take responsibility for letting something so toxic enter this world. Why did they even bother to try?
It took me awhile to get the tears under control. Once I had finished crying I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my jacket. This was the only part of my costume I was wearing. Everything else looked tacky and embarrassing. A plain black blazer with jeans instead of a suit.
I walked back to where my family was, they were all wishing each other the best and parting ways once again. I stood off to the side, staring at nothing for awhile. That is until a hand gently grabbed my arm. It belonged to my sister, Lana.
“I don’t need to hug you right now. We’ll talk later.” She said softly, smiling.
I nodded. “Alright.”
Her smile faltered as she stared at me a moment longer before turning away and leaving. I wanted to tell her she didn’t need to cry, neither did I. It’s what I needed to do right now anyway, so it’s better than feeling sorry for myself. Besides, I knew if I tried I wouldn’t be able to stop crying, even though I had been trying my damnedest to do so since I arrived. I’m an emotional wreck and I hate feeling like that. I can’t stand it.
My emotions are usually suppressed, hidden behind an apathetic expression. I’ve spent my entire adolescence trying to conceal my feelings. It helped that I didn’t want people to know what a miserable mess I am, because everyone would probably pity me even more and make sure never to speak to me alone. I didn’t like being pitied. But when it came down to it, it hurt less to hide than to have someone show concern for you. So hiding my feelings was one way I could cope with my issues. My parents weren’t good at dealing with emotions, so they left me to cope on my own. That worked well for me and I learned to deal with my problems and then move on. That’s why I always stayed away when people offered advice on how to handle difficult situations. Sometimes, I even preferred to do that on my own rather than ask them for help. It felt safer to work things out myself than to risk having somebody else deal with it. That’s the only reason I never talked about my problems. If I did I knew people would try to help me solve them. They’d offer useless platitudes that meant nothing. They wouldn’t understand. Not even my brother understood. He doesn’t know anything about my situation. No one ever knows. I always hoped that someday he would figure it out, but he never has. I’m glad he doesn’t. I don’t want him to know. I don’t want anybody to know.
I sat for another hour at a nearby park, watching people come and go. My mind wandered away again. I tried my best to focus on the happy memories that surrounded me. Some were painful, some were funny, but all were sweet. I wish I could remember more, though. But maybe it’s best this way. Maybe it will give me an easier time moving on and getting over these stupid feelings. Maybe it will be easier to live without them than to deal with them.
But maybe they’re worth fighting for.
That’s what I told myself anyway. I’m stronger than those feelings. After all, I have my family for support. Even though I can barely stand to look at them. I’m not weak and I won’t let myself be. I’m not afraid anymore.