How to Act at a Funeral

As soon as I entered the funeral home, I ducked into the bathroom. As soon as the door was shut, I pulled off my sunglasses then reached into my purse for the eye drops and the body spray that I always kept in my purse and lined them up on the edge of the sink. I leaned in close to the mirror, so close that my nose touched the flawless glass. My eyes were bright red, just as I suspected. I leaned back away from the mirror and brought up my shirt to my nose. Ugh. I smelled like the town drunk. The town drunk that had spent the night in the inside of the dumpster. What the hell happened last night?

I didn't have time to question it. Instead I uncapped the eye drops, tipped my head back and dripped several drops of the saline into my eyes. I recapped the bottle and returned it to my purse then grabbed for the body spray. After I had finished misting myself I took a second wiff of my shirt. The stench was still overpowering, though, this time it was the floral scent of the spray. I'd fit in quite nicely with all the flowers scattered around the Home. I threw the bottle in my purse and once again leaned in close to the mirror. My eyes were still red, but liquidy like I had been crying for hours...instead of boozing and drugging up for hours. Satisfied I turned away from the mirror and exited the bathroom, keeping careful to keep my head down to the carpet to avoid any kind of eye contact with any of the other mourners. 

Even with my eyes cast to the ground, I spotted Shannon standing in a corner, away from the crowd. I made a beeline for her. 

"Hey," I said quietly as I reached her, my eyes darting around the room on a lookout for any of the parents or teachers milling about.

"Oh f**k, I'm so paranoid right now", Shannon whispered. Her eyes were also searching the crowd.

"Let's get out of here." 

"We can't, it'll look bad if we leave now," Shannon whispered quietly but vehemently. She grabbed my arm as if I had already started for the door.

I eyed the line of folks lined up to view the body. "We should probably get in line then." I said, though, it was the last thing I wanted to do. If Shannon and I got into line everyone would stare at us. People would point their finger and talk under their breath. Those are the girls that killed Leena.

Shannon clutched my hand as if we were both back in kindergarten and we made our way to the end of the line. "I've never seen a dead body before," Shannon hissed.

Neither had I, but I didn't say anything. Instead I concentrated on moving forward, of keeping my back straight and my stride steady. I was just daring the crowd to point their accusatory fingers. Shannon and I were not murderers. Leena was dead because she killed herself.

*   *   *

Hours after the funeral, Shannon and I hid out in my bedroom. I put on a Nine Inch Nails album on and cranked up the volume enough that it drowned out our conversation, yet, wasn't loud enough that my mother would come upstairs to investigate. 

"Are you sure our profiles are deleted?" I ask Shannon for about the millionth time.

Shannon nodded. "Yes, I'm sure. I made sure that everything was deleted and then I killed our profiles." At the word killed, Shannon's eyes grew wide and her already pale face went whiter. I felt the blood run out of my own face. 

"Is that enough?" I wondered out loud, though I knew the answer. 

"I never meant for this to happen," Shannon said quietly. I almost didn't hear her over the music.

Neither did I.

Reviews

[ZackOfBridge]

I like that you never said what killed the girl, but I am able to draw conclusions from the writing. Also, the story interested me because I know people who show up stoned everywhere they go and that would probably include a funeral.