The Rumour

February 9th

Funerals were never my favourite thing in the whole world. But to be honest, who does like them?

This particular one was an open casket funeral, which I think is pretty morbid. Seeing Adam lay there, his skin cold and pale, dressed in his best suit, holding a bunch of daisies to his chest, was the most sickening thing I’ve ever seen in my life. He even still had his nose ring pinned onto his nostril. Sydney, Kyle and I were the first ones to pay our respects after his immediate family. Kyle and I kept our arms around Sydney, and I could feel her shaking under my grip.

It must have been horrible, he died on her 19th Birthday. Poor girl. I remember, I was there when she found out. She didn’t believe it at first, until she saw the body they had uncovered from among the sea-beaten California rocks. His hair was messy, and his cuts were deep all over his face. His green shirt was blood-soaked and ripped. I threw up.

As I stared into his dark wooden casket, I remembered back to how I last saw him, glad to be able to remember him like this, all cleaned up and handsome as apposed to the condition I last saw him in.

“Ugh,” Sydney made an odd sound, and I watched her eyes widen.

“Are you okay darling?” Kyle asked, taking a step in front of her and stroking her face.

“I remember broke his elbow,” She whispered, pointing at it. “I don’t feel very well,”

“I know honey, I know. But this is your last chance to say goodbye,” Kyle rightly said, placing a small peck on her pale cheek. Her black veil hung over her face, as she stepped toward the casket. I stepped with her, gripping the hand she wasn’t using to stroke his delicate face. I watched her, as a black tear dribbled down her face. She stared at her dead lover as I did, expecting his thin eyelids to flicker open and him to sit up and give Sydney a kiss.

My own boyfriend, Oliver, came up behind me, holding my waist and staring into the casktet. My eyes welled up, suddenly feeling awful for having a lover that was still alive. I turned to Oliver, not saying a word, just nuzzling his chest. Inhaling his manly scent.

“You won’t ever do that to me, will you, Oliver?” I whispered to him, a tear rolling onto Oliver’s crisp white shirt. He stroked the back of my head, and shushed me as I sobbed.

“No. Never, honey. I’ll always be here,” He smiled, kissing me lightly on the cheek. We turned back to our beloved Adam, paying our last respects.

“I love you Adam,” I heard Sydney whisper. “I always will,” I saw her lean into the casket, and touch her lips on his slightly, leaving a smidgen of crimson lipstick on his lips. She carefully took his fragile hand, and slipped a silver hoop on it.

“Here’s my ring that you bought me - I wanted you to have it back,” She sobbed, eyeliner-heavy tears pouring into his casket. I began to cry full on, clutching Oliver with my life. Literally.

“Honey don’t cry,” Lindsay took Sydney into her arms, knowing what she said was totally useless. “We’re all here for you darling,” She took her aside while she sobbed on her black shirt. Lindsay didn’t really look out of place here. But we we’re all dressed in some form of black. Oliver looked real handsome in a suit, just like all the other guys. I looked around the coffin, seeing all the smiling, alive faces of my friends staring back at me. All of them, apart from Ronnie.

“Where’s Ronnie?” I asked, pulling my head from Oliver’s chest.

“Nobody knows baby,” Oliver soothed. “Well, none of us expected him to come,”

“I wish he would,” I sighed, cuddling Oliver again.

Sydney shivered over back to my side again, staring at Adam’s beautifully structured face for one final time. It was such a waste. He was gorgeous.

“I want a memorial bench in Owen’s Park,” Sydney stated, smoothing her knee length figure hugging black dress.

“Sure, honey. We’ll look into it with you, yeah?” Kyle snuggled up to Sydney in comfort. He’d been crying too, of course he was torn up about this. I felt compelled to go give him a meaningful cuddle to my cute camp friend. I tore away from Oliver’s arms and hugged him, my hands going under his jacket and around his slim body.

“Okay everyone, we have to close the curtains now, if you’d like to take a seat…” The vicar said, and then came a ghoulish scream.

“Nooooo!!!” It was Sydney, and I saw her throw herself on Adam’s fragile body. “Don’t take him away from me!!”

“Sydney, come on babe, it’s gonna be okay,” Nathan saved her, dragging her off his coffin and back to her front row seat, as the black curtain closed around his solitary coffin. Some music, a bass line began to blast over the speakers. I recognised it, as I took my seat next to Oliver, leaning on his shoulder. It was Love Will Tear Us apart by Joy Division. Ironic. Ian Curtis, the lead singer committed suicide too. This was Adam’s favourite sing.

When the routine bites hard
And ambitions are low
And the resentment rides high
But emotions wont grow
And were changing our ways,
Taking different roads
Then love , love will tear us apart again

Why is the bedroom so cold
Turned away on your side?
Is my timing that flawed,
Our respect run so dry?
Yet there’s still this appeal
That we’ve kept through our lives
Love, love will tear us apart again

Do you cry out in your sleep
All my failings expose?
Get a taste in my mouth
As desperation takes hold
Is it something so good
Just cant function no more?
When love, love will tear us apart again

I could hear Sydney wailing in Nathan and Matt’s arms from the other side of the room. This must be the worst song she has to listen to right now.It was a sad song. I wanted this whole funeral to be over, for all our sake as well as Sydney's. I began to think about how I would deal with it if Oliver died.

I'm not sure I would be able to deal.

I became suddenly worried about Sydney, and my heart twinged, and Oliver rubbed my back as I jerked back a sob.

Adam wouldn’t want me to cry.