Skinny • Book 1 In The Reality Series

Katy

My Mom of all people, made me go to the funeral.

I didn’t want to go.

I didn’t want to go anywhere, but she made me.

Risen from the couch, dressed in a hideous potato sack like dress, she stood, watching as I forced myself from my bed where I’d been lying for nearly a week, refusing to believe that he was gone.

Ashton drove, the ride was long but nowhere near as long as the funeral.

I realized, sitting in my straight backed, metal folding chair, staring over the sea of Luke’s crying friends and family at the closed casket which held his body, too damaged to be seen, that not only did I not want to be there, I didn’t belong.

I didn’t know him.

Not really.

I didn’t know he had siblings, all older, two brothers and two sisters, or four sets of grandparents. I didn’t know if he was a dog or a cat gut, what his favorite color was, if he preferred summer, or winter, spring or fall. I didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life, or what he’d done, and I never would.

The tears leaking from my eyes and rolling down my cheeks in rapid succession felt wrong. My guilt increasing as I chanced glances across the room at Calum, who was staring straight ahead, digging hid fingernails into the palms of his hands, his lips moving rapidly in a silent chant, repeating the words ‘don’t cry’ over and over again to himself like a mantra.

I felt sick, knowing that the body of the first genuine friend I’d ever had was lying in a box on the other side of the room, my stomach churning as each of his siblings woefully recounted child hood memories, as his parents tried to speak only to erupt into broken sobs.

I felt like an intruder. I couldn’t bring myself to look up from my lap. I didn’t want to see these strangers, the people that mattered the most in the world to the boy in the casket, breaking down completely. I’d never seen a grown man cry the way Luke’s dad did, loud, choking sobs leaving his mouth as he struggled to stand upright. I wished more than anything that I was somewhere else, anywhere else, when one of his sister’s snapped and started cursing out Michael who wasn’t present, then his Mother who was, before finally turning her attention on God, who in her words was nothing more than a ‘sick joke.’

I didn’t want to see his Mom, who I’d only met once, trying to string words together, zonked out of her mind on some sort of mind numbing medication. But nothing could prepare me for Calum.

Looking down at my hands, I was waiting for it all to end, begging it to end so I could leave the dusty funeral home which smelled disgustingly of flowers and old lady perfume, when I heard his voice.

Surprised, my head snapped up to the small podium at the head of the rows and rows of chairs. There Calum was stood, his feet awkwardly overlapping each other and his hands pulled into the sleeves of his suit jacket. His eyes were bloodshot, his face pale, and his legs shaking as he nervously cleared his throat.

“Hi.” He mumbled, just loud enough to be heard, but soft enough to be respectful, “I’m Calum I’m L…was…um…Luke’s friend.”

The air conditioning hummed quietly in the corner, a chorus of sniffs filled the air, but other than that it was silent. No one spoke, they all just stared up at Calum through tear blurred eyes, waiting for him to go on, to say what a great person Luke was, and how he’d be missed but was ultimately in a better place.

“I met Luke in kindergarten.” He continued, “It was the first day. I remember seeing him for the first time, a little butterball with a red face and tear stained cheeks, still crying about his Mom leaving a half hour ago.”

A soft chuckle left the mouths of a few older relatives, undoubtedly reminiscing on the boy they’d watched grow up.

“There was this girl.” Calum said, “I don’t remember her name anymore. She called him a ‘cry baby momma’s boy loser’ So I called her a meanie, told the teacher, and decided that I was going to be Luke’s friend. Which wasn’t hard. He is, sorry..was, the best friend I’ve ever had. He cared, so much about everybody. If ever there was someone that…that didn’t deserve to die…it was him.”

My heart aching I watched as a single tear rolled down Calum’s cheek. Blinking rapidly he reached up and rubbed harshly at his eyes with his fists, seeming angry with himself for allowing the tear to fall.

“I was going to ride in the front seat.” He laughed sadly, “It should be me in that box not….not him.”

More tears running down his face he reached up and tugged at his hair.

“I should have taken the front seat, I shouldn’t have let Michael drive I knew he wasn’t okay to drive! I don’t know what I was thinking I should have done so many things and I didn’t and I’m sorry.”

A loud sob leaving his mouth, Calum reached up and clamped his hand so ferociously over his lips I feared he might rip them off.

“I’m sorry.” He whimpered reaching up and running his fingertips though his hair, his mouth red where he had touched it, crescent moon shaped indentions from his fingernails, marking his skin, “I’m sorry.”

Unable to take anymore I rose to my feet, wanting nothing more than to hug the breaking boy infront of me, however before I could move towards him, his Dad was there pulling Calum against his chest.

Letting out a sound I doubt I’ll ever to able to forget, Calum’s knees buckled as he leaned against his Dad, crying in earnest.

Frowning, his Dad pulled him against his side and smiling apologetically at everyone who was watching on tense silence, dragged Calum through the large double doors and out of the room.

A man in a suit then asked if anyone else had anything to say, but everything had been said, it was over and Luke was gone.

The reality of it finally sunk in, he was gone and he wasn't coming back and I found myself wishing, more then anything, that it had been me in the passenger seat.