Guilt's Embrace

 

It’s raining, of course. Why wouldn’t it be raining at a funeral? It’s a bit of a cliché though isn’t it? Everyone’s black umbrella bobbing in sad precession as we make our way to her resting place. The rain was hitting her casket with such a vile sound, a horrifying reminder of what, of who lay in there. She’s never again to rise, never to smile, never to crack a hearty laugh at a joke that wasn’t particularly funny. I loved her laugh, her eyes always twinkled when she did, making everyone around her smile. She was never going to bring her radiance into the world, as she had always planned to.

I wish I was the one in there, not her. She never drank a moment in her life, never thought about it. She never got high, she never did anything wrong. I’m the bad kid, not her, so why in the world would she be taken away? Why not me? It’s not like anyone would care that much if I was gone. Really, why not me? I’m this grotesque horror child that has committed every sin that a teenage girl could, so why aren’t I the one in the casket, about to say a final farewell. She was just so pure, so righteous, Why? I can’t stop asking myself that. They keep telling me it was a freak accident. That it wasn’t completely my fault. What a pack of lies, I was the one who got drunk, I’m the one who told her I was fine to drive, she didn’t even have her license because she didn’t feel the need to have one, I would always be able to drive anywhere. I was the one who wanted to go out to the party in the first place. She was just coming along because I asked her too. She was being a good friend, like always.

            The rain, my god the rain. It’s mocking me for what I did. How could I have made such a stupid decision? It’s like my mother told me when I was a little girl. When a truly good person dies, the angels in heaven cry out for the lost soul. I guess that’s what the rain is: The tears of angels. Angels who are sobbing for her, asking the same questions I’m asking myself now. A simple why? She’s probably looking down on us right now, a flood of grief, saying that everything is going to be alright, telling us not to cry, not to be upset that she is gone. Everything will be ok; everything is fine, that she’s happy. She would probably forgive me too. I don’t know which is more difficult to bare, the fact that she is gone, or that she wouldn’t blame me for what is clearly my fault. I am the soul reason that everyone is gathered here today, that her parents are grief-stricken, that her little brother will never really know how truly wonderful a person his big sister was.      All of these people, all of these lives that have been changed because of my one ill fated decision. This is something I will never be able to make up; I will never get a second chance, a way to correct the wrong I’ve done. It is irreversible, she is gone. Death is really the only thing in life that is absolutely final. Everything in life that we do has some impact on the world, and on the lives of those around us, we may not realize it but everything has an effect. The person who handed me my first drink, they ultimately caused her death. They will never know, but the path of fate rested with them. I guess what it comes down to, is that we seriously need to watch our decisions and actions, because honestly, we will never know how it changes the life of someone else, dramatically or otherwise. It’s up to us to decide which path we want our lives to go down, granted, sometimes those decisions are made for us, but then it is our responsibility to make the best out of it, and make our own good decisions.