Seeking Closure

The sound from the rain falling down on the umbrellas bore by those gathered in the cemetery creates a lulling atmosphere. A little girl around the age of nine is amongst the throng of visitors, in their efforts to stay dry they also provide a canopy for her as she eyes the mahogany casket with equal measures of sadness and curiosity.  

She looks down at her feet. Her black shoes begin to slowly become consumed by the earth as the soil becomes more saturated, the water churning with the grass causes her to shift her weight to avoid the encroaching mud from overtaking her. 

A thought occurs to her, wondering what would happen if she never moved at all, if she would just keep sinking forever. The idle imagery ushers forth a giggle but the sounds of sudden wailing breaks her out of the reverie. “Oh, Marissa.” her father says in a voice just shy of a whisper, his vision frozen ahead. Feeling as though she was being chided, she lifts her head in time to just barely catch sight of the top of the casket disappearing from view on its descent into the hole beneath it, as the priest concludes the service with, “ashes to ashes and dust to dust.”

Tables loaded with various different kinds of foods line the hallway as people move along the breadth of them, plates in hand.  

Perched at the top of the stairs, Marissa eyes the flow of traffic that brings to mind when her daddy takes her for ice cream and how eagerly everyone waits for their turn to receive a delicious treat. Except, all of these people seem different. Their slow shuffling as they move along the edible offerings with their lips dipping at the edges, contorting their faces, brings about an uncomfortable feeling in Marissa. Reaching its apex, she rises and starts walking down the hall to her safe place to stave off the uneasiness, her bedroom.

Coming upon the room, its door still open wide affords the ability to anyone happening by to, understandably, make the mistake that her parents are avid collectors of everything relating to bunnies and this room is designated to that end, save for the bed and dresser, each donning their own fluffy insignias.

Approaching the side of the bed, Marissa turns about and allows herself to fall freely, ending with a cushy landing. Her body feels as though it were melding with the fabric beneath, as her eyes run the length of the ceiling that’s dotted end to end with blue and pink hares. Another memory comes to mind as she lays transfixed on the decorations, one of her mother with a brush in her hand, her mother’s laughter filling the hollow room as the sun’s rays pierce through the glass of the windows. Marissa’s eyes grow heavy as that lingering remembrance brings with it the welcoming embrace of sleep.

Awakening to the sounds of her father yelling from downstairs, she rises with a start, eyes wide. Quietly she leans into the dresser beside her bed so the floor beneath doesn’t creak as she lifts herself, her feet resting solidly on the carpet, she stands herself upright. Gently placing one foot in front of the other, it feels as though an eternity has passed to cross the expanse to the doorway. Leering around the corner she inclines her head begging to hear what’s being said.

“I told you Dad, I refuse to leave this house. She is still here with us. With me!” Her father’s voice holds such a fierceness that belies the actual sorrow contained within, its cracking for the briefest of moments did not escape Marissa hearing it. He must be on the phone as the awkwardly long silence breaks with him talking in a calmer tone, “No. We haven’t had a chance to actually talk about it yet. She’s already gone to bed for the night and she has been distant from me all day. We’ll talk in the morning when she wakes up.” His voice taking on the sound of resignation, “Ya. I love you too, Dad.”

Marissa’s grip on the door-frame tightens as she leans further out only to be rewarded with the sounds of pain-filled wailing making their way to her ears from below. Her eyes ignite with a fine mixture of heat and pain as they well up with tears that are intent on trailing down her cheeks while she returns back to her bed.  

As she rolls over in the bed, she thinks of the handful of times she has seen her father cry and every time he has, she would inevitably have a share in shedding her own tears as well. Staring at her wall, feeling her throat tightening, “Please Daddy, I don’t want you to hurt anymore.” The sound of her father sobbing carries her off into the night.

Marissa stirs as the warmth of morning light passes through the half-opened blinds, the sunshine dances as the tree limbs sway outside the window. Rubbing her eyes with clenched fists, she remains motionless listening to the sounds of the house but is only met with absolute stillness. Her brows furrow as the expectant scent of breakfast is oddly absent.

Getting out of the bed and making her way downstairs, the home is eerily quiet save for the birds outside and their song penetrating the veil of silence. She strains to hear anything at all and yet nothing reaches her ears.  

Rounding the landing and into the kitchen, she notices a pile of dishes forming a giant mound in the sink. She glances at the closed door to her parents’ room that lies just outside of the kitchen, musing to herself, “Dad must still be asleep, he’s always the first one awake.” Marissa jumps as the sound of something hitting the window of the door to the backyard causes her head to snap around.

She makes her way over to the door and peers through the glass, her eyes moving along the sides of the pane. Raising to the tips of her toes she struggles to get a better view. A bird bursts up into the air, propelling itself off into the great blue oblivion above sending Marissa reeling backwards in shock, a screech erupting from her mouth. She forces both of her hands to cover it in unison, her eyes wide. A worry grips her at the notion that she may have woken her father, squeezing her eyes tight; she waits for whatever may come as a result. After a time, her eyelids part, ever so slowly. A sigh escapes her lips and then a flash of something moving in the backyard makes her go back to the backdoor to investigate.

The corners of her lips lift up as she spots a tuft of white fur and elongated ears sitting in the sea of green grass, the creature idling munching on a patch of clovers. It turns, showing its profile to her, then leaps away. Her hands shakily grab the door handle, but it refuses to turn. Trying to twist and turn over and over again only gains her exhaustion for the attempt until a thought strikes, Daddy will definitely wake up if he hears me opening a door, I guess the bunny will just have to wait.

Going to the living room Marissa climbs into her spot on the couch. Her eyes trail over the room and she recalls all of the memories as they come to her like a collage of moments, as though happiness were painted on every inch of the room.  

Closing her eyes, the vividness of those times become clearer and sharper by contrast. Seeing her father’s smile as he watched her draw bunnies while the sound of his game was playing in the background. Feeling the warmth of her mother’s embrace while snuggling on weekend afternoons. Hearing their voices overlap each other’s as they read stories to her, the immeasurable love found in the singsong way they would recite them day after day.

Marissa’s eyes shoot open as she leaps from the couch hearing her father’s voice exclaim, “Look what I found!” The sound of his footsteps getting louder with each passing second until his whole frame jubilantly arrives into the living room bearing a large cardboard box, the top of which is open. Without hesitation he moves to the kitchen counter and sets it down. “Hunny, come look, quick!” His excited gaze not daring to come away from whatever is holding his fascination within the package.  

Noticing the twilight of the late evening bathing the home in orange hues, Marissa walks through the living room. A peculiar sense of anxiety starts growing within her but she can’t quite figure out the reason why. “Daddy, what is it?” She inquires as she gets nearer but her father remains motionless. “Daddy?” she asks, a touch of concern mingles with curiosity in the question as she looks over the open flaps to see what is inside that has her father so riveted. The pain in her heart nears the verge of being overwhelming.

The door to her parents’ room opens, her mother’s bereft voice responding, “What is it?”

Her father points to the white bunny held in the container. “I told she was still here, I told you!” Tears fall from his eyes as he continues, “It's a sign that she’s still here with us!”

Her mother’s eyes start to well up as she moves behind her father, wrapping her arms around him, coming to rest them across his chest and laying her head against his back. Her words are filled with so much pain and anguish as her lips utter them, “If that is true, then she doesn’t belong to us anymore. It’s her other daddy’s turn now.”

Her father’s hands slam onto the counter top as his whole body heaves, turning his face downwards, his breathing becoming rapid, his tears begin cascading unabated. His head shakes up and down as his bawling turns to mournful howls as he rocks back and forth on the counter.

A gentle hand lays on Marissa’s shoulder and she hears an unfamiliar voice behind her say, “It’s time little one. There is no reason to fear or worry anymore.”  

The welling up of torment that seemed to have been building up to the point of bursting within her mere moments ago has simply dissipated into nothingness. Turning to face the strange voice, a man dressed in a flowing white robe crouches down to meet her eyes. “Your Daddy has been missing you since you left.” His lips pull into a smile. “I have come to take you home.”