The Funeral

 

Obsidian.

That is the first word that registers in his mind.

It’s the only word that speaks to everything around him.

The external atmosphere is all so somber.

It’s a dark day,

A death day.

He straightens up his tie,

Brushes the dust of his jacket and steps into the forbidding building.

The scene he sees is not one he expected.

One expects a general silence,

Silently muffled sobs around the room,

You would expect a show of human decency.

He is amazed to see his father pulling of a triple black flip,

His mother cheers him on as she pops a bottle of champagne, he knows they shouldn’t be able to afford.

His sister sits unbothered, staring at her phone.

She seems to be the most approachable.

He walks down the aisle,

He says all of his friends in a corner,

They came dressed to kill,

Well they were killing his respect for them.

A few of them are drunk and have passed out,

The rest are either drunk and loud or are otherwise taking selfies.

He turns away with shame.

He finally reaches the front row.

“Hey sis.” He whispers quietly,

Trying in vain to be respectful of the nature of the event.

She doesn’t acknowledge his presence.

As far as she is concerned no one is next to her.

She continues to stare at her phone.

He tries again and again (quite unsuccessfully at that) to rouse her.

Eventually he walks away from her.

He has a new objective in mind,

Reigning in his parents.

“Mum, dad, please control yourselves,” he pleads.

“We are at a funeral can you not see.”

But alas his words are falling on deaf ears.

Never has he felt this ashamed to hold his family name.

He decides to pay his respects and walks towards the casket.

He sees his best friends near the body.

Their heads hang limp, their faces grief stricken and hollow.

He sighs, that sigh of relief.

At least a few people respect this event.

He intends to take a step forward but in that moment everything goes wrong.

Their grief vanishes almost instantaneously,

Their faces are contorted,

 Plastered with wicked smiles.

They pull out a vessel and from it a foul-smelling yellow liquid is expelled.

All over the body.

The laugh maliciously as they walk away.

At this point tears are glistening but he holds on.

He finally makes it to the casket,

Ready to say his final farewell,

Only to have the shock of his life,

To have his soul depart,

But can a soul really depart if its already departed.

He wonders as he stares and the vessel that used to contain that soul,

His desecrated body.

His thoughts are so far gone that he doesn’t notice the sudden chill in the room.

A hooded figure approaches him.

It leans toward his ears.

“You know they never loved you,

They craved your destruction.

It would have been better if you had never existed.

Let me take you to a place you won’t exist.”

The tears in his eyes flow with no hindrance.

“Will they remember me.”

“Once your soul is destroyed it will be like you were never here.”

“Take me there.”

A beautiful dagger is set before his eyes,

“Take it and stab yourself,

I promise the pain will cease.

You will be free forever more.”

He looks at the knife,

Peace is tempting,

He never knew it in life,

It seems he would never know it in death

One last look at how little they regarded him gives him strength.

And just like that he fades away.

Never to exist in the heart and soul of another,

Not even as a memory.

Death picks up his dagger with a smile.

And proceeds to walk back down the aisle.

He leaves the church all clad in black,

For one of those fools he will soon be back.