Jilted generation

Funerals are weird. Yeah, I know what you’re probably thinking. “Gerard, of course funerals are weird…” But it’s true. And funerals are even weirder when it’s your little brother that your covering up with dirt. And I’ll also say that funerals are very quiet. Again, I know what you are thinking but funerals are also very quiet when hardly any people turn up. Funerals are also very strange when the people who were extremely close to your little brother don’t even show their faces to say goodbye before the corpse is laid in the ground to rot forever. For example: The boys own father.

That’s right, I was there. Mum was there. Well, mum was physically there but her brain still whirred continuously like it had done since Mikey’s death. The same stuff over and over again through her mind which she hid behind cloudy eyes. But Dad wasn’t there. He hadn’t even come to say goodbye. Why? I don’t know. Me and mum couldn’t even try and persuade him to come because there was no dad to persuade. He still wasn’t home; he was still running blind.

I sat. My mum on one side and I wrapped my palm across the seat as the words of Mikey’s life rattled through my mind. I gripped my mum’s hand as the music began to bounce off the walls of the hall. My mum stood like a zombie. Lifeless. The irony was that she wasn’t supposed to be the dead person in the room. I looked to my left to see tears leaving tracks down Quinn’s face.

“Hey…” I choked through the tears towards her direction. She turned to me and I saw the pain leak through her pale face, her hair soaked with salted tears.
“Hey…” she whispered back. Allowing a small smile to break onto her face before turning her head back to the front towards her best friends coffin.
Quinn didn’t have a best friend anymore. And that was sad. But there again; I didn’t have a brother anymore. I guess we were more alike than what we’d first imagined.

---------------------------------------------------

We walked out in an orderly procession. Me and Quinn leading the way behind the wooden box as we dragged our feet along the gravel path towards the pre-dug hole in the earth that was just the right size for Mikey’s corpse to fit into. All nice and warm for the rest of his sleeping and decomposing life.

We watched as they lowered him into the empty space and Quinn began to tremble as the earth piled up, filling in the empty space. My heart dropped as the dirt rose higher and higher towards me; putting more space in between me and him.

“Hey…Hey Quinn” I said sounding concerned. I looked over to her to see her swaying backwards and forwards, tears where still rolling down her face. She looked like she was about to collapse. I put my arm around her shoulder and led her away from Mikey. I wasn’t forcing her to, but she didn’t seem hesitant to leave him behind. I sat her down on the bench at the edge of the graveyard and didn’t even flinch as she rested her head on my shoulder. The sobs still racked her body as she spoke.

“I don’t know what to do Gee..” she murmured softly.
“Me neither Quinn…” I whispered through the tears, “I know that we didn’t really talk much before…. But, um, you ever need any help then please don’t be afraid to come and talk to me. I’ll always be here.” I smiled through the tears.
“Thank you Gee…” she whispered back to me.
“Its fine…” I said.

Once the area around Mikey had cleared we headed over there. Hand in hand. For comfort. Nothing else. Just for comfort. There wasn’t a head stone yet. Just a bare patch of upturned land in which Mikey slept in. Quinn felt guilty. I knew that for sure. You could just tell. But it wasn’t her fault. No. It definatly wasn’t. I saw Abby walk away silently tears rolling down her face too. But still no Dad. Mikey was loved. No matter what people had ever said about him. I loved Mikey. Quinn loved Mikey. Mikey. Brother. Mikey. Loved. Mikey. Starved. Mikey. Young. Mikey. Dead.
I looked to the rectangle of upturned land once more. “Goodbye Mikey…” I whispered.

Notes