The Last Time

Her porcelain hands are cold and lifeless as her shell of a body is on display for all to see. Wispy brown hair as dry and brittle as meadow grass curves around her ears. Studs of the deepest red decorate her lobes.

How did it come to this? She thinks to herself, what went wrong? She had been so full of life and laughter, and a future brighter than the stars. But now here she was, nothing but a reminder of who she was.

"She will be missed," she hears friends who were really not her friends in the audience, accepting condolences like free candy. "She was such a good person," says another stranger. Truly, why do people who never acknowledge a person when they're alive show up to a funeral pretending to care?

I cared, she says to herself, memorizing the face before her. Pale cheeks empty of blush. Dull lips, once so full, are now flat and colorless. I cared so much.

A figure appears beside her, casting his grieving glance over the edge of the casket. She watches quietly as he eyes her face closely as if she will wake up any minute, and all of this will have been a horrible nightmare.

"I never thought I'd bury you so young," the man says, his eyes bloodshot red and swollen, "parents shouldn't have to bury their children."

She places a gentle hand on the cuff of his suit, but he refuses to acknowledge her show of understanding. If only he knew.

He moves away slowly, gazing over his shoulder. The last time she'll see his watery blue eyes gazing at her. For a moment, she thinks he will stop and come back, but he doesn't. He simply blinks and continues on.

Next, a woman moves into the frame. Her ring-studded fingers shine in the golden glow of the overhead lights that envelope the casket like some sort of prize on stage. The grief is all too tangible in the air surrounding her.

"Oh God," she whispers quietly as if she is afraid the dead will hear her, "I am so sorry I wasn't there for you. You have no idea the guilt I carry with me because of it. I only wish I had one more chance."

She stares at the woman, pain blazing through her veins. How dare she come here and beg forgiveness from someone who couldn't respond back?

She moves close to the woman, hoping to scare her off, but the woman ignores her, too. All her focus, all her guilt, is on the young lady in the satin bed.

"Oh God, please forgive me," she sobs, hiding her face in her hands, "I am so sorry."

God will never forgive you for this, she swears, pushing the woman with all her might. She stumbles a little bit as if a strong gust of wind slams into her from out of nowhere. Confusion and terror contort the woman's face, and all she sees in her expression is absolute fear.

Good, she says to herself, be afraid.

The woman hurries away, her wild hair flapping as she makes her hasty exit. She knows she is the last person to have shown her face here.

Just as she moves her eyes back to the shell of this former person, another movement catches her eye. She smells his scent before her head turns, and she feels the crack in her soul grow bigger.

He is so little. This is the first death he has ever had to face, and he is facing it alone. Because his sister is in the casket, and she was his entire world.

His brown eyes, once so bright, are now dull and listless. His small mouth is pulled down into a permanent frown, and there is such a sadness in his eyes that it seems as if he is the one dead, and not her.

"Sissy," he shrieks suddenly, throwing himself over her lifeless corpse. "You promised! You promised!" His anguished cries slice through her soul, leaving burning, shattered pieces in their wake. His father appears behind him and wraps shaking arms around his waist.

"It's okay, it's okay," he mutters, even though he knows it will never be okay. "She's at peace, son, and she will watch over you for the rest of your life."

Is she at peace though, with a life severed well before its time?

"But she promised me!" He wails, struggling to get free of his father's grasp. "She promised that she'd never leave me!"

She falls to her knees and watches him collapse before her, his tiny fingers grabbing the casket handle as if it would float away into oblivion.

Look at me, she says, trying to catch his eye.

He claws at his face, the pain scarring every inch of his soul. She sees the marks on his heart, leaving white-hot blazing cracks in his soul. She wishes she could just reach in and soothe the burning, take away the throbbing aches, but she cannot. All she can do is try to help.

Listen to me, she says a little more forcibly, as she places her hands on his own. He stops crying suddenly and looks up. Recognition floods his eyes. He sees her.

He sees her. The world around them suddenly silences, and time stops in its tracks.

I am always with you, she says, smiling sadly, I will always watch over you.

"You promised me," he replies solemnly.

I did, and I will continue to keep my promise from beyond the grave.

"We were supposed to go together," he says, closing his eyes briefly.

She sees the images of their last moments together.

A flash of lights. The pungent reek of burning tires. The twisted metal around the unforgiving tree trunk. Her body mangled. His just barely hanging on. A hasty promise made that if they were to die, they'd go together.

Yes, she says, but I made sure God saved you. Dad lost only one child that night; not two. Two would have killed him, too.

"What am I gonna do without you?" He says, tears falling hot and fast down his cheeks.

You're going to live, she replies, kissing the top of each of his still-healing hands. And when it is your time, I will be waiting.

He sniffles, and nods. "With Max?"

Her soul flares suddenly, and another tiny soul joins their little farewell party. A furry, rugged mutt by the name of Max.

His smile is bright enough to light the entire realm beyond this one, and the sight of it warms her soul. He will be okay. She can see far into his future and knows when the day comes, he will have lived his second chance fully and will die a happy old man.

It is time for us to go, she says, pulling him up to stand. He reaches for her one last time, wanting to feel the solidity of her body against his.

She tries her best to be as present as possible.

For the last time, she feels the warmth of her little brother and the strength in his arms surrounding her soul with love. For the last time, she smells the brown mop that is his hair, the slight scent of green apple shampoo, and crisp winter air.

For the last time, she looks into his eyes, knowing it will be years and years from now when they will meet again, but his eyes will never change.

Be good, she says quietly, as she and Max step away. Be kind, and -

"And believe in yourself," he finishes.

She is proud of him. So, so proud.

Max licks his hand and merges with her soul. He was the only thing to greet her on the other side. There are just the two of them there now, and they will wait patiently for the reunion of brother and sister. And, eventually, her father as well.

I love you a hundred Oreos, she says, glimmering tears of her very own pouring down her fading cheeks.

"I love you a thousand sour gummy worms," he replies.

For the last time, she looks at herself in the casket as time steadily returns back to its usual beat, and the people around her come back to life. She begins to fade, the scene of her own funeral disappearing before her.

Goodbye, she whispers, as her soul whisks away to that place beyond the grave, a place full of light and hope.

"Goodbye," a tiny voice echoes, stitching back together the soul that shredded apart at the sight of her devastated little brother. "I'll be seeing you."

See you soon, she sings, closing her eyes.

When she opens them, she sees Max, and a field of apple trees, their green fruits growing for miles and miles and miles.

She knows that when the last apple drops, it will be time.

For now, she sits and waits.