Sunkissed

Sunkissed, that’s what I always called her.

With her freckled-painted body. Her frizzy, curly brown hair begged for my hands at any moment. Inevitably, every time, my fingers would get caught in a tangle, always ending with an accidental tug and quietly apologizing by my lips on her skin, my tongue gently running over a patch of freckles.

She’d always let out the most beautiful sounds in response, stuck between a shocked laugh and a hitch of breath. I’d flash a cheeky grin, continuing my actions once again just to get the same reaction out of her.

But that was all before she died.

Now, the sun mourns today the loss of a solar flare. The sky cries, heavy rain soaking through my black wool jacket. The funeral parlor that stands in front of me is small and has deteriorated over the years it's been here. The doors were wide open like her arms were ready to embrace me. I can imagine it so easily, the way she’d pull me close, kiss the top of my head, her warmth enough to comfort me in this moment.

“You ready to go in?” I feel a hand settle on my shoulder, too big to be hers. My brain supplies the real answer: my brother, Elijah, who had dropped me off in the front while he went to find parking. Elijah, who has come back only to see I haven’t moved once, letting the rain soak me through instead of standing under the overpass as he told me to.

My eyes don’t leave the building, but I tilt half my body in his direction. “Will I ever be?” The silence after is enough of an answer. The wind picks up then, blowing my hair into my face until I cannot see anything besides blonde strands, like a push to get this all over with. To go inside, or home–home is more realistic.

“It’s getting bad out here, Mads.” A weak attempt to get me inside, the wind was more convincing. He brushes the hair away from my eyes, knowing I have no energy to do it myself.

“Do we have to go in?” I sound desperate, whiny, completely different than normal. But yet again, what’s normal about all this? Nothing.

“We don’t have to enter the exact room yet, but getting inside and out of this rain is ideal.” He’s right. Painfully and stupidly right.

Moving is a hassle in itself, my feet glued to the ground below. “Just one foot at a time,” I mumble, hoping to reassure myself a little bit into taking a step.

Briefly, I wonder, would the ground swallow me whole if I were to fall? Entrap me in its soil for all eternity. Perhaps I’d see April that way, waiting there, dirt messily covering those freckles that I’d rub off with my thumb, the rest of my hand caressing her cheek in the process.

I can’t feel my legs. “I can’t.” My body trembles, my head shaking, begging not to be forced in there.

Elijah’s voice meets my ear, his arms slowly wrapping around me. “You can, I promise.”

A sob escapes my throat, tears welling up in my eyes. “No, I can’t.” He only hugs me tighter. We stand there without speaking, letting the tears flow and the raw sounds come out as we both get drenched by the relentless rain.

It’s an eternity before we pull away from each other. By now, my tears have washed away into the metal grates below, following the rest of my energy, completely drained from my body.

“I’ll be there with you the entire time.” He promises, never fully stepping away from me. His presence is my lifeline, the only comfort I am guaranteed.

I close my eyes, begging my mind to go blank and my body to be still. I attempt to bring air into my lungs, my chest puffing out before deflating over and over again. “Why is this happening? Why do I have to be here?”

The question is rhetorical, directed not to my brother but to the world itself. “How could you do this to me?” I look up at the gray clouds, expecting to see a sorrowful and guilty face hidden somewhere out there. She’s not there. Nor is her answer.

April was young, perfectly healthy, and expected to live a long and happy life with me. She wasn't supposed to be lying in a casket in a funeral parlor. Her death was by suicide. She didn’t show any signs until it was too late. Until the pills were already consumed, and she was already unconscious on the floor. My heart breaks all over again at the memory, any anger building up in my veins simmering back down again.

A measly sob escapes once, followed by a shudder. I lean my head back, letting it rest against my brother’s chest. “Madelyn, people are starting to arrive. We gotta get going.”

Through the haze, I recognize a few of the impending guests: a few of April’s close friends whose names are lost on the tip of my tongue.

Trying not to embarrass myself any longer, I will my body take a step. With Elijah guiding me we make it inside slowly, stopping to take in the interior of the venue. April’s friends pass us, walking by with looks of sympathy on their faces, all directed towards me. I feel the bile rise up to my throat the longer the eyes stare at me. A part of me wants to yell, burst into tears, or pass out, which one it’ll be, who knows.

I look at my surroundings, taking it all in with an audible gulp. White-tiled floor with muddy footprints all over and creme-colored walls cracked with time. There's a sign with multiple names and times on it, the first being April’s open funeral, Room 1, 10:00 am-1:00 pm. Looking at it is like being stuck in a nightmare.

“We don’t have to stay for long. April’s parents will understand.” I bite my tongue to argue that it’s the right thing to stay the whole time and instead will myself to look towards Room 1.

April, my lover, who’s been gone for three days now, is in there. It’s not her final resting place; her burial with close friends and family is later in the afternoon. I can’t imagine how that will be.

I feel a warm hand entangle with mine, Elijah’s grip firm and comforting. “Ready?”

Before I can say no, I nod, straightening my posture and futilely attempting to look more presentable, squeezing out my still-dripping clothes to the best of my ability.

The inside of Room 1 is a form of torture in itself. With an old scratchy carpet, white walls with mold in the corners, and around thirty foldable chairs set up facing the casket. April’s parents and her younger sister, Allienah, an identical copy of April, stand beside it. The carpet gives out a wet squelch as I take a step, causing me to pause in my movement.

It must have been loud enough to capture the attention of her father. “Madelyn,” his voice is soft, words carefully chosen as if one wrong sentence and I’d break. He’s not wrong.

I feel the tears building up behind my eyes, threatening to fall at any given moment. “Hey,” My voice breaks, cracking halfway through.

“Elijah.” Her father nods, dabbing at his eyes with a tissue in the process.

We stand like that, staring hopelessly at each other, not wanting to speak the truth out loud. I can sense Elijah moving behind me, moving his head to look into the casket from afar. Some days, I was jealous of his height, but today, I’m grateful I cannot see inside right now.

I feel a tug on my arm, and Elijah speaks out for the room to hear, “Just a second.” He pulls me out, no longer careful like before.

Once we make it out of the room, I turn to glare at him.“What are you doing?”

I watch his Adam's apple bob up and down as he runs a hand over his face.“This is going to sound crazy, Mads.”

“I don’t think this day could get any worse, so go ahead.”

“April’s alive.”

My eyes bulge out of my head, a frown growing on my face as my eyebrows furrow. “What? That’s not funny.”

“I’m telling you, April’s alive. I just saw her.” His voice is urgent and loud, and stares are being sent our way by the next group of guests to arrive.

“Who?”

“April! I just said it; she’s in the room.”

I shake my head. “April’s dead, stop playing games.” The memory of April unconscious flashes through my brain again, entirely unwanted and all Elijah's fault. "You know I was the one who found her; I should know. So stop with this sick joke."

“April’s pretending to be Allienah, I’m telling you-” The door to Room 1 creaks opens, and what I expect to be a guest leaving to use the bathroom turns out to be Allienah herself.

Stern eyes meet mine. “He’s right.”

The gasp that punches out of my chest is uncontrollable, loud, and unexpected. “What, April?”

A sad smile appears on her. One that pulls at my heartstrings. It's one that kills me all over again.

Her voice breaks, and I watch a tear run down her face. “It’s me.”