Falling to Pieces

Kyle brought out my funeral outfit. I refused to go shopping for something to wear, causing Kyle to do it for me. He was much better at it than I was. The whole coping thing. I guess it was because he believed that now she was without pain and in Heaven; I wasn’t so sure there was a Heaven.
“It’s better to pretend,” he whispered.
I nodded and picked up the black dress. “God, Kyle you have awful taste.”
He chuckled at my attempt to lighten the mood.
It was all a show for him. I didn’t want him to see me suffering; I needed to be strong for him. At least look strong, like porcelain.
During the funeral I stared blankly at the coffin, imagining something else. I had mastered this when mom started to get sick. In the hospital I would pretend I was watching her, but her weakness was too much to bear. Instead I would make up stories in my head to cope with the pain.
I pictured that I was in New Yuck with Joel outside the school smoking. God, I needed a cigarette so bad at the moment. I pictured Joel taking the cigarette; he always was protecting me now.
“Rose,” Kyle said softly, “Come on.”
The pastor wanted us to shovel dirt onto the casket.
I shook my head. “I’m not going to burry my mother,” I hissed.
Kyle nodded and went forward. A line formed behind him.
I looked up at the sky. It wasn’t raining, nor was it cold. The sky was a beautiful blue with the sun shining down on me. I looked back down at Kyle and the rest of my family and friends.
I took off my heels, with my fake smile I turned and ran home.
The wake had been the worse.
Family members blurred together as they came up, looking identical, and said how sorry they were. I never said anything but thank you with a painted smile on my glass face, froze in the synthetic expression.
At night, the nightmares came back.
But it wasn’t about my mom, not really anyway. I was the one in them.
The most frequent was me in front of a shattered mirror. At first I didn’t understand why it was shattered, till I felt the blood running down my arm. And then I would turn and see Joel behind me, smiling. He would just look at me without saying anything. I didn’t understand either.
I stretched out my arm to touch his face. It was cold and hard, like glass. Under my touch his face cracked then shattered, followed by the rest of his body. I stared at the broken pieces on the floor in horror.
I covered my face and began to cry. But the tears were black paint and my face was porcelain. I looked at the shattered mirror and saw the glass face with the painted smile and black tears falling from my painted eyes.
And this would be the end, for I would wake up screaming.
The first night scared Kyle. He rushed into my room and held me tightly, as if he could squeeze the sobs away. The first night it took two hours to calm me down and get me to sleep. But by the fifth night Kyle just walked in, already awake with expectancy.
It seemed by the end of the month, I had shattered and had fallen to pieces on the ground, mixing with the pieces of Joel.

* * * * * *
Joel sat on his bed with a pack of cigarettes, debating.
She had just left with no explanation or reason.
So why should it matter?
Because you promised.
He ignored the voice in his head, as he usually did, and opened the pack.
Lindsey came in and sat on his bed, taking a cigarette. She didn’t say anything, not that she needed to. He needed to be the one to say something first.
“I don’t understand why she left.”
“Joel,” Lindsey began, “Do you think…”
“No,” he said, “Don’t think that.”
She looked down.
If her mother had died, then Rose would not come back. She probably wouldn’t be alive to come back.
“Now whose thinking negative,” she whispered.
He leaned back on the bed and put his arm over his eyes. “Humans are so fragile.”
She laughed quietly. “And you’re not?”
Even though he hid his face, Lindsey could see the smile.
“Pizza?” She asked.
He laughed. “Why not?”
“And,” she added proudly, “I have beer money.”
He grinned.
Later he got out his sketch of Rose that he drew after the incident in the alley. He sighed and folded it in half and put it in the trash can.
Vampire’s memories lasted forever.
Drawings didn’t.