Ocean Breathes Salty

I stared blankly at the lifeless body in front of me. It was Hannah, but it wasn’t Hannah. Her familiar yellow curls lay underneath her head. It made her hair look short, shorter than mine. It made anyone unable to see that her curls actually reached down to her waist. The mortician clearly didn’t know what they were doing. The embalming made her face look wide, completely changing the whole look of her face. Hannah’s makeup was a mess. Her cheeks were a rosy pink and shimmery shadow covered her lids. Her lips were a deep red. It was odd seeing her with this much makeup on. She could walk down the street without any makeup and still make heads turn. At least they made her look happy?

A dainty silver heart dangled on a chain that was wrapped around her neck. I reached up to a matching one that hung on my own neck, making sure it was still there.

“I’ll never take it off,” I promised, as I whispered over her casket.

I couldn’t remember everything that happened that night. Just small pieces. I remember hanging up with John just for him to call me back an hour later in tears. After that call I don’t remember much.

“She’s dead,” his voice echoed through my mind every time I shut my eyes.

My eyes navigated towards her hands lying stiffly at her sides. The light reflected off of the diamond on her ring finger. I once had so much animosity toward her relationship. I was angry about it. I didn’t understand how she could give up our future for a new one with someone like John. Now I just felt sad about it. Sad for the future Hannah chose but would never have.

I thought about Hannah’s wedding. I imagined what it would look like, what color my maid of honor dress would be. I questioned whether or not John would cry when he saw her walking down the aisle towards him. I pictured pink roses, her favorite, on every table.

I thought about Hannah’s kids. I wondered if they would be blonde like her. I wondered if they would have John’s green eyes. I thought about being a Godmother.

I thought about all of the things that would no longer be now that Hannah wasn’t here.

I couldn’t bring myself to cry. Not now, not then. Sometimes I felt guilty for it. How could I not shed any tears over the only person in my life that mattered? It was as if crying would make this all real though. If I let any actual emotion out, I would never wake up from this nightmare.

“Meadow.”

I snapped back to reality, startled, and looked to the person to my right.

“Sorry,” Kennedy said, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The whites of Kennedy’s eyes were bloodshot. Purple bags rested underneath his eyes that mimicked mine. I wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t been sleeping much; Hannah and her brother were very close.

Kennedy and I were close once too. That changed one night in high school though. When his parents were out of town, Kennedy threw a party much to Hannah’s dismay. After months of Hannah joking about how Kennedy and I would be a perfect couple, we got drunk and hooked up at his party. The next morning our hungover-selves promised we would never tell Hannah and the two of us stopped hanging out after that. Hannah questioned why for years but she never knew the truth and right now I felt terrible for keeping something so stupid from her.

She probably would have laughed about it. She would have told me I was stupid for avoiding Kennedy and being awkward. At the time I was scared she would be upset, she joked about us getting together but she really wanted that. I didn't want to get her excited for nothing. Thinking back on it now though, I should have told her.

“Thanks again for helping us with the photos,” Kennedy said.

“Huh?” I asked, realizing I had zoned out again.

“The posters.” Kennedy motioned to a couple of different poster boards that sat at the side of the room. They were littered with photos of her. Some with her family, some with me. They were supposed to help everyone remember ‘the good times’ and think of the happy memories we had with Hannah. The reality was that they just outlined how short of a life she was given.

“Right,” I nodded. “It’s no problem.”

“She looks good, right?” Kennedy said, peering into the casket beside us.

I looked back down at the sort-of version of Hannah lying in front of us. “Yeah,” I lied. I looked away from Hannah and back up at Kennedy.

I became very aware of how many people were watching us. Black outfits swarmed behind Kennedy, waiting for their turn to pay their respects. I felt anxious. I needed to get out of here.

“I need some air,” I managed to choke out before leaving Kennedy alone in front of his sister.