In 102 Languages I Love You

I stared out the window watching the white snowflakes slowly descending into our earth. Observing one fast, and then letting my eyes explore the others as quickly as possibly; trying to find its match. I'm sure every snowflake out there has it's own match. Everything, should have it's own partner. Whether it be as simple as snowflakes.

My black dress barely clung onto my body, it was loose and didn't compliment anything about my good features. Not like I had too many good ones anyway. I could hear Dan and Moms footsteps upstairs, wondering around the house, still trying to get ready even if we were already late as it is. Dan was somewhere in the bathroom, I guess, probably shaving. Mom was in her room probably pulling on her black clothing. I could tell the differences between the squeaks each of their feet made. Dan's were louder, and the way he walked gave away a different type of sound. I also knew exactly were the room's above were from down here.

I pressed down on my dress pushing away the wrinkles trying to form on the material. My feet felt freezing and cold, exposed to the house temperature. It was my first time wearing high heels. I've seen mom wear them all the time before heading off to some party, or sometimes heading off to work. I didn't understand how someones weight could be supported by some thin heel! I didn't get how someone could actually travel in such things! All the weight was brought down to the front of my feet, and all my toes were put on pressure. This made them slightly red from the circulation being harder to get to my feet, and my toes felt numb from the cold around me.

Who decided that the color black had to be a funeral color, anyway? Who decided to make it as if the color was some depressing color? It wasn't even a color, it was considered a shade! I wobbled like a duck over to the nearest couch and sat myself down. It was December 26th of nineteen ninety-seven. He was so close to making it to nineteen-ninety, eight! There was another holiday we wouldn't experience together; the New Years. And to me, that was the
best holiday. It meant one year I had fought my disease. This upcoming year, it would be my seventh year with ALS. How exactly would have I ever ended up if I hadn't actually gotten diagnosed? Would have I ever met Drake? Would I have turned out the way I am today?

I liked the fact that New Years kind of signaled almost a new beginning, or a step towards another direction, never looking back.

Dans bouncy footsteps echoed the house as he made his way down the stairs. I watched as he fixed the tie around his neck. The whole process looked complicated as he did loops and turns with the tie in his hands. He looked over at where I sat as he put on his big black coat over his black dress shirt. "You look nice." He said, now, putting on his black gloves over his pale fingers. I stared down at my attire, and almost wanted to gag. I knew this just had to be some nice fake compliment to make me feel better, but now wasn't the day for arguing..just accepting.

"Thanks." I mumbled, getting up from my seat, and grabbing on to my coat, pulling it closer to my slim body to keep warm. "Is mom ready ye-"

"Let's go" Mom's voice rang, cutting me off. Her wild brown hair was up in some tight bun. Her eyeliner looked in perfect place. She brought over her black scarf to keep her skinny neck warm. My eyes wondered down towards her feet, where instead of heels, she had on boots. Apparently they looked better with her pants. Dan jiggled the keys in front of my face, and told me to follow him into the car. I sighed, letting go of my breathe as we walked over to the door. Dan stepped outside, and we were showered in white snowflakes. I felt them falling on my face, and my hair. They'd melt their eventually, and that would cause my hair to curl up. That would be the last thing I'd worry about right now.

I was mentally and physically preparing myself for the events that would take place soon. His funeral, his last goodbye. I sat myself in the back of the car, and waited as mom sat in front, next to Dan. He didn't even really know Drake. He just knew that Drake was my best friend, and Mom and Drake's mother were close. I bet he was going to feel the most awkward out of the pact. The car rumbled, for a little bit more, before letting out a loud roar, and Dan drove it down the streets. I rested my head on the freezing window beside me, and shut my eyes off from the world. I had never been to a funeral, let alone, ever known someone that had died.

Death in many different places mean different things. For us, I guess death is something we all don't want to face. Some of us, like me, are afraid of it. But does that make us weak? Or do we just simply want to live forever, and enjoy life? Is their such thing as reincarnation like the Egyptians believed? Did we live up our to our Dharma, like the Hindu's praised? Or did Kharma get the best of us? In some cultures, People wanted to die earlier then expected, because the afterlife was supposedly much better then living on this earth. I however, being afraid to die, wanted to stay here as long as possible. What can you do after you're dead? There are so many things you can do breathing, so much. And I yet, had to experience them.

"Dan, stop here. I need to buy some flowers quick."

My mom's voice snapped me back into reality, as the car parked next to some flower shop. Mom unbuckled herself, and I watched her get out of the car slowly walking into the store until she was no longer visible. Flowers?, when did that become a sign for some funeral. When did anything of the funeral traditions actually start?

"How are you holding up back there, kiddo?"

Kiddo? "You're turning into Gerard.." I whined. "Don't hang out with him too much! My names Madison, not anything doing with kid! I'm not even a kid, I'm a teenager!" I snapped, not being able to control my attitude that had boiled up that second.

"Wow, and a teenager with snappy hormones too gosh. It was just meant as a little cute name?" He asked himself, more than defending himself.

"Sorry.." I mumbled, actually feeling guilty for just snapping out at him out of nowhere. "I guess I just got moody at that second for no reason. Or maybe, I get really bothered when people think of me as some kid. Aren't I really considered some type of woman?"

His face turned a bit confused tilting his head and twisting his body more so he could face me. I am a girl who has her period. If I was Jewish I would have been considered a woman at thirteeen and have a Bat mitzvah. I'm catholic and I've had my baptism, my communion and have been sixteen already. At seventeen I'm not some girl anymore, no matter how hard it was for both Dan and mom to believe.

"You'll always be my LITTLE sister. I can't see you as a woman. I don't think any brother at my age can see their seventeen year old sister being a woman, at least not yet. You're still kind of annoying to me." He smiled. "You're always going to be little, or young to me, because to me, you still are."

I will never get the feeling of being older. Mom didn't have any kids after me, so I didn't even have the feeling of bossing around another little Darko. Even if it still didn't make me the oldest, it made me older then the, youngest. But that was it, all I had experienced was being the youngest. Everyone was out there to make sure I was okay, treat me like some kid who couldn't do anything right. The little one who will always be little, and never taken seriously. On maturity levels, I'm sure I beat Daniel at that, but still because I was cursed for being born four years after Dan, Mom herself would never see me as a woman.

I didn't say anything back to Daniel after that, I let him keep to himself as we both waited for Mom to get back into the car in silence. Snow began to fall harder on our small town, and the funeral was being held outside. We'd all be standing around the same coffin, all freezing our asses off. All of us, trying to stay strong for the family, and imagining ourselves without Drake Calhoun in our lives anymore. I think that was my hardest task. I was kind of like a leech, feeding off of Drake for anything, and everything. I was kind of proud of myself for not crying for four straight days. But I wasn't proud of myself because even if I wasn't crying, inside I was sort of, dying, and decaying away. Every single passing day, something inside me disappeared. I knew that piece could come back, but that was only if I put the effort, and I wasn't putting any.

About four more minutes past until Mom came bursting out through the flower shop doors, holding a bouquet in her arms. White roses, typical. Without realizing it, she opened up the door opposite from me, and a gusting wind danced with my hair.

"Here Madison, you hold them, so they won't be a bother Dan as he drives."

I took the bouquet of flowers from her arms and held them tight against my body. I heard the opposite car door shut, while another opened. I could feel her weight bring down the car again, and shut her own door. And now, we were off once more, down the road.

I could see the little veins zig zag patter on the pedals. There was dew on some of the pedals, and pink little stripes coming from the pistol. I held nature's beauty in my arms. You don't see anyone giving someone some type of technical toy at a funeral. It's always decorated with earth's nature. Why? Because we envied the beauty we ourselves could not create. The sad thing was, this flower tried to lighten up the image of the dead cemetery, with it's beautiful colors. But it would to, end up dead like everything else in that place.

We continued our drive for about fifteen more minutes in the car, until we made it to the cemetery gates. Outside, you could see numerous cars parked in strange places that definitely was illegal. I began to feel my breathes come in shorter and my heart inside my rib cage bounce from the nerves. I should've prepared myself better. I slid out of the car, holding on to the bouquet of flowers that were probably half my size. I clung on to my black jacket for warmth, it was absolutely freezing! I know I'd fall if I didn't watch my step. My toes would probably fall off by the time this was all over. There were piles of snow accumulating on the ground and I was in heels. Let's just say that after ten seconds outside, I was ready to tumble over. Mom smiled sympathetically over my way, and walked up to me, rubbing my back. But instead of feeling her flesh, I felt cotton. "I know this is going to be hard for you Madison. I know he meant a lot to you. She sighed, as we walked through the gates. "Laurie, Drakes Mother, said that every person that meant something to Drake is going up with flowers, and resting them on his tomb. You're second to last, before his parents, okay?"

"O-okay."

As we stepped into the cemetery my heels sunk into the dirt below us, making it harder for me to actually stride through the ground. Everywhere I looked I saw an unfamiliar face dressed in the black attire. At least when Drake had gone he still had family that knew him. He had people show up to his funeral, because he had once had a life filled with friends and family. Who would show up to my own funeral? It's not like I knew too many people, or too many people actually knew my name was Madison.

Mom pulled my arm back, and that's when I noticed I had kept walking to the center where His coffin lay. I moved back and stood back, next to mom. You could hear the wind howling every now and then. The snowflakes were showering our black clothing in white. Along with the wind's howls, cries were also heard, muffles, words. Everyone stood quite staring at one single thing around us, Drake's coffin. It was hard to believe that my best friend was laying in there dead and lifeless. Just about three weeks ago we were making fun of each other, we were laughing, and he was breathing. We would drawing doodles during English, making fun of the teacher, or he was would try to trip me. All of that were just memories now. I swallowed back a hard lump in the back of my throat, keeping back from crying really hurt.

The priest walked up to the coffin and began to open up this book he had in his hands. It was my time to wonder off again. Drake wasn't the type of boy I'd often see in the movies. He wasn't to sporty, though he did like to play basketball sometimes, just because he was tall. He wasn't some jerk either. He wasn't too shy. He had been the one who had introduced himself when I met him. He was kind, as kind as kind could get. He liked to tease me though, but that was fine, friends do that. He was kind of lazy in the mornings, and grumpy too. His favorite candy was twizzlers, and every time after drinking apple juice, he let out a disturbing burp that left the little area he stood at smelling gross. When we used to walk home together he'd always put his arm around me, protecting me from anything as he kept me close. His smile radiated a room with warmth, even if he was himself freezing. His favorite subject was math, but he didn't like global history. When he made himself cereal, he'd always spill a little milk, or some cereal on table.
These little things separated him from other boys, from other humans. It made him Drake Arthur Calhoun, a one of a kind.

"Madison.." I heard a sharp whisper and a slight push on my side. I turned to face my mother only to realize that her eyes were bulging and her head was tilted towards the center were Drake lay. I looked down to my flowers and realized I was up next. Slowly, with fire burning inside me, I wobbled my way towards the spot were dozens of flowers already rested. Every step I took, another memory played in my mind, and those memories were filled with smiles that it almost made me want to laugh out loud. But I know if I did, everyone would look at me like I was crazy, because they expected me to be sad. I was too numb to actually feel anything of some bad emotions. I could feel the wind running through my body, lifting up part of my dress, and my hair, and for a second I felt his arm around me once more. I could feel all the eyeballs at me as I bent down slowly, as I ran my fingers through the engraved letters, and as I firmly placed the flowers on the bed tombstone.

"Hey best friend, keep on waiting. I don't plan to leave anytime soon. I love you."

I felt my mouth pull back into a small smile. I couldn't help it. I didn't think of the fact that he was dead because his spirit was still somewhere, right? I thought of everything we had ever done together. The happy emotions he had brought to me. I could say I have a best friend, even if he was gone. I was in no need to kill those good memories with crying. He was still somewhere inside me, he's still watching out for me, he's still here, as long as I keep him alive in my memory. I walked back to my mother slowly, still feeling all the eyes burning through my skin. Mom waited for me, and opened up her arms. I clung onto her body as her arms wrapped around my own, holding me tight. I shut my eyes and hung onto her for my own dear life.

Parent's aren't supposed to bury their children, children are supposed to bury their parents. I turned my head around to take a look at Laurie Calhoun, barely able to walk up with her husband and so goodbye to their son. Then I took a look at my own mother. She still had my in her arms, and hers in mine. I could spot wrinkles, I could see a full grown woman that had gone through so much. She had sacrificed everything she loved so Dan and I could live comfortably. She had been their for me through everything. How would she end up when I was gone? What would she do? Would she be just like Drake's mother? At least Drake's Mother had a husband, they had relatives, a lot who would help them through it. My mother was alone.

"Mom." I say, trying to get her attention. Her own eyes had begun to water as everyone watched Drake's parents stand over his tombstone.

"Hmm?" She asked, sniffing a bit. I felt her fingers rubbing against my back, trying to comfort me.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything" She finished almost trying to smile.

"When I'm gone don't cry at my funeral."