You Weren't Smiling

As I approached the building, I felt even more thoughts invade my head. They were all weird, some that I didn't expect to think, some of which I never thought of before, some were even stupid and some made me feel miserable. But also, just when one thought passed and another came I found that I couldn't remember the one before it. It was indescribable.

Many people were already there by that time; from teenagers and old people alike, some were outside, quietly discussing things with their friends. When I got closer and my heavy shoes scrapped more loudly and people saw me, they all turned to look at me. Everyone looked at me at least for a second, and I felt so uncomfortable.

I knew their thoughts sweeping through their silent stares. Their eyes and faces just gave it all away. I knew at least all of them had to think "Who is she?" which meant something more like: "Who is she to him?" All those stares made me feel so unwelcome and guilty even. After all, when was the last time I saw you? ... I can't even remember, but for some reason all of this hit me harder than anything else in my life.

I couldn't help but look down in shame. You had so many friends and compared to them I was nothing. That's how they made me feel, and for a moment I thought I should leave, but the strong feeling in my chest gave me the courage and need to stay. I wanted to see you after so long, just for the last time...

As I walked through the corridors more people were scattered, all quiet with grieve expressions on their pained faces. I felt a few more looks sent my way, but I didn't dare meet their eyes as I clutched the two ruby red roses that I held in my hand tighter.

Sad, longing music distantly reached my ears, accompanied by sorrowful voices singing. I took a deep breath knowing I was almost there. My heart beat furiously and my thoughts drove me to the brink of madness.

I rounded the last corner, people of various ages, but mostly adults were sitting on a long bench by the wall. My gaze wandered and I finally saw your photo hanging on the wall right beside the door. Your brightly smiling face stared back at me and I swallowed the forming lump in my throat hard. I came here with a decision that I would not shed a tear. But the sobs that I could finally hear now made me nervous and weak.

With a small intake of breath I stepped forward again and stood outside the door. Right beside the door inside the room there were three people, the same musicians I heard who were playing and singing along. It didn't help that the saddening melody was simply heart wrenching. Fifteen to thirty people were standing in the room. They were all huddled up to what I could see was a coffin; a beautiful white coffin with golden colored edges that were carved into the painted wood with waves.

That's when I felt the first of many big tears roll down my cheeks. I tried so hard not to cry, to try and stay strong for once in my life, but I couldn't. I saw what I presumed to be your relatives by the coffin. An old looking man stood right beside the head of the coffin as he was bent down right to your face, his lips moved gently and I could barely hear soft whispers escaping his mouth, they were teary and strangled. His hand softly stroked your scrapped check. A small girl, your sister, who looked barely seven held your heavily bruised hand. I guess make-up can't cover everything. I saw her lips moving and her face scrunched up into a painful frown as she talked. It looked as if she was begging for you to get up, like she couldn't believe her older brother was lying there, unmoving. How could she? It was probably hard for her to comprehend all of this, she was still so young.

The room was stuffed full of white roses, and other flowers, various big flower crowns, but all had one thing in common – they were all white. My own two roses were the only different colored flowers in here, it made me feel even more awkward and out of place than before. It was like I truly wasn't welcome here.

My bottom lip painfully trembled for a sob to ease through, but I held it in. Only huge, salty tears poured down my face, slightly smearing my thick eyeliner. And that was another thing, you'd think I wouldn't put any make-up; it's a damn funeral, right? But no, I actually did it hoping I'd have another reason to try and not to cry, so I wouldn't ruin it. It was a very idiotic though, yes. Yet I needed to distract myself with something. Obviously it didn't work no matter how hard I hoped it would help.

I painfully remembered all the good times we shared. You really loved horses, I remember how I always watched you fascinated at how well you rode. Your face would always lighten up when you sat down on a horse and nudged him forward. I always watched from the sidelines and I almost felt jealous how you rode so well while I still had to learn with the lead-rope. I wasn't as good so that I could ride on my own, and I never had so much luck learning it well.

You always explained stuff to me, everything that I asked. You were always smiling or and I can forever remember your grin smeared face. That's the only way I can imagine you – smiling. Even if you did have your serious moments, that bright grin fit perfectly on your face.

But the whimpers from all around me only reminded me of reality. You weren't here anymore and the heavy bruises on your face and one hand, that were the only parts of your body visible, made me see how cruel life can be. No one knows what can happen, when it can happen, and it can happen to anyone ... no one can ever be ready for it.

I wasn't ready for it and I still couldn't believe how it could happen to you. How could something like that happen to you?! I wanted to scream, kick and shout anything. Everything hurt, reality hurt. You didn't deserve that. Sure, you were irresponsible, but at times we all are, but I don't think you deserved to end up like that because of it!

I remember when he told me about you.

You drank a few bottles of beer with your friend and you both drove somewhere, your friend was behind the wheel. They said on the news that it was pretty fast, 120 kilometers per hour. You hit a car that was driving on the opposite side of the road. No, not you ... he did. I sort of blame him for everything, but I know I have no right to, but I still want to. I don't even know if you had a seatbelt on, or if it broke, because they said you flew out through the front window of the car and died on impact. The driver, your friend got some serious injuries, some broken bones a bad concussion and was in a coma.

I really can't remember what I was thinking when I heard that and I couldn't comprehend my feelings. And as I stood there, crying silently and looking at your bruised form I could not find any excuse why it had to happen to you. You were always so kind, generous and good and I almost couldn’t or didn't want to believe it. But you were here, lying in the white coffin. Your sparkling eyes were closed and you looked almost asleep, but the sickly pale white color of your skin, minus all the hideous scratches and bruises, made it look like something was wrong. It was, oh it really was. Because you weren't just going to wake up like you experienced a bad dream or nightmare. No, you weren't going to wake up at all.

Many things, thoughts and emotions hurt me that day ... but the one thing that stabbed me in the chest harder than all the other facts was one little detail.

You Weren't Smiling