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General

Again, I am standing in a foreign land. Somewhere I never wanted or asked to be. When I told Natalie goodbye that day, I had no idea how permanent that word would become. A simple conversation, a short embrace, memories otherwise forgotten, instead, it’s all I have left. Years of friendship boiled down to a few last words. “Let me drive you to the airport.” I had offered. “I wish you would have said something sooner, my Uber is almost here.” she replied. I shook my head, as I saw the small blue sedan pull up to the street curb. She swiftly pulled me in, “‘Bye, Mac, I’ll see you again soon.” she whispered into my ear before letting go. “Goodbye,” I muttered as she pulled the door closed. I play that moment over in my mind like it’s the only moment I’ve ever lived. I try my best to exclude the phone call I received from her sister hours later telling me about the accident. The pain of that moment, those words, sank deep into my bones. “She didn’t make it.” Is there another way to word that please. She didn’t make what? The trip? The team? Life? I know I’m being petty and making no sense, but what else do I have to do? My best friend doesn’t exist anymore. I can’t wrap my head around that concept, I never will, she can’t just live in my memories. Even though I’ll keep them as long as I live. I bet I look like a strung out junkie right now especially given that I’m probably mouthing these words as I think them. Worry about yourself, aunt Linda, I haven’t had much sleep lately. I feel like that’s what my eyes are saying as I meet her stare. The pity in her face just makes me feel worse. I shouldn’t have come here. I wasn’t ready. 

The people come and go like a half off open buffet. Did she even know this many people? Where were they when she was depressed and feeling like no one loved her? Did they know about her fear of heights? Did they take her out for ice cream when Darren Martin broke her heart? I think not, so why are they all crying? They probably didn’t even know her favorite song, or the shows she liked to binge watch all night. Yet here they are wanting pity and hugs. Why am I doing this? This isn’t me, these people deserve to grieve in their own way. They probably did know her, and for their sake, I really hope they did. She was the best person I’ve ever met, and I could only wish such greatness be bestowed on as many hearts as possible, but still, I wonder what she would think about all this. The people, the crying, I don’t feel like she would condone any of it. Yet here we are going against her wishes. I guess it doesn’t matter now anyway. 

I’ve sat on this bench judging people coming in and out of the funeral home for too long. I just don’t have the courage to go inside. How can I look upon the remnant of something that meant everything to me? How can I be okay with that? Knowing I can see her but I can’t hear her. I can speak, but she won’t listen. I can’t hug her and tell her how much I’ve missed her these past few days, and watch her smirk and roll her eyes. No more laughs no more memories, just people talking and laughing with each other while my best friend is lying still in a box. What? Did I really just say that? Is this really happening? I’m really at Natalie’s FUNERAL? I can feel the weight coming back. I’ve gotta walk around or do something. I can’t set here anymore. If I hear one more person laugh I’m going to lose it. There’s absolutely nothing to laugh about right now. “Mac!” a familiar voice cried running to me. What was left of my heart broke again and again in a sequence of fleeting moments. For a split second I thought I saw her. But the realization started the quake in my soul. Natalie’s sister, Megan, was coming up to me. They looked so much alike, despite being years apart in age. I can’t breathe right now, she grabbed me regardless and squeezed her tear filled eyes against my shoulder. I don’t know how my body is managing, but I’ve got some form of liquid streaming down my face too. “Will you go up with me, Mac? I can’t do it alone.” Oh no, she did not just ask me that. Where are your parents, your cousins? Someone other than me, please. I can’t say no, Natalie wouldn’t want that. It’s time…. I guess..

The door was getting closer and I could feel my chest getting tighter. I hadn’t noticed my hand was trembling until Megan squeezed it. Was this for her or me? Or both? We crossed the threshold and through the crowd of scattered people I saw it. Parts of the blue pearlescent coffin popped out against the black suits and dresses of the people surrounding it. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I have to do this. Megan pulled me down the aisle as the people tried spitting condolences at her and I. I closed my eyes and when I felt us stop, oh god, I can’t do this. I slowly opened my watery eyes to see Natalie, lying still like a painting brushed against a white cushiony palette. She looked so peaceful and I envied her for it. How can she be at peace? She’s not here. She “didn’t make it”. This is it? This is what it all boils down to? Lying in a dressed up box forever? I can’t do this. Megan betrayed me and left me standing there like an awkward mannequin. She had found another victim and was drenching their shoulder. 

Well, Nat, I can say you looked beautiful in death. Not that any of that matters now. Nothing matters now. Nothing. I swallowed hard and touched her hand. The coldness jolted my nerves. “I’ll see you again soon, and I’ll miss you so much until then.” I whisper before I choke. I’ve gotta get out of here. I can’t do this. I’m walking past everyone like they aren’t there. I don’t care about them, I have to leave. I don’t have time for you to tell me how sorry you are Becky, go tell one of the other spectators. It means nothing, nothing now. 

I’m finally in my car. I’ve gotta get as far away from here as possible. Pulling out on the empty highway is such a relief. I punched the gas and the rearview mirror gave me the image I was looking for. All of the people and cars becoming smaller and further away. I sighed and looked back to the road just in time to see a blue sedan straight in my lane. My eyes closed as my body stiffened. A sound like artificial thunder rings through my ears and then it stops abruptly. 

“Mac… Mac….” Something is grabbing my hands and pulling me. My eyes open to see Natalie. Behind her are all these blinding colors and shapes unlike anything I’ve seen before. Blinding colors grow dim and chattering emerges. The shapes slowly form to human figures with faces I don’t recognize. “I never thought I would pull you through.” she says to me. “Where am I?” I ask. “The beginning.” she replies with a grimace .

June 04, 2020 23:02

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3 comments

Loni Anderson
22:20 Jun 10, 2020

What a poignant story of loss and grief. When you start by saying, 'Again, standing in a foreign land,' I thought maybe this grief and loss had happened before and I got the impression it was the character's mother (ref to Aunt) who Mac had lost before. It really captures the intense suffering of losing someone so dear. There a couple places where I'm confused about what is happening. Maybe read the story out loud and see how it flows.

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Nicholas Keck
18:09 Jun 12, 2020

Thank you so much for reading! I will work out the rough parts. I recently lost a best friend, and it was cathartic to write this, but also tough. Thanks for your input!

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Loni Anderson
16:02 Jun 18, 2020

So sorry for your loss.

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