Life N Death

Before this time another year,

I may be gone,

In some lonesome graveyard,

Oh, Lord, how long?

The ground around my feet was wet. Partially conscious, occasionally I slightly lift one up to see the dry ground under it. As though the clouds were aware of the grieving party that stood some distance below it, it had showered its bliss briefly. I wondered if it thought it could wash our misery away with some drizzle. The shower had set the mood for more weeping instead. 

"Dust to dust, may the soul of the departed rest in the bosom of our saviour where we shall meet again in heaven," the soothing voice of the preacher echoed in the almost empty yard. I heard Beatrice's mum let out some loud sob at his words. I am yet to shed a tear since this nightmare began. I still feel like I am in a dream I would wake up from. Her body was there in the coffin lifeless, no doubt, but it was still unreal to me. 

         I took a look at the house I have come to know as mine too. Memories flooded my head at each point my eyes rested. The swing I had almost lost a tooth when Beatrice decided to push too high and I had slipped off, landing face first. The basement where we sat to plan and discuss our next article for the school newspaper. The love bench as Beatrice loved to call it, where we shared our secrets and fears as we sipped whatever was available. I turned to see her mum paying her last respect. She poured the sand into the hole containing the coffin. I went last, my eyes bone-dry. 

                ************************

"It is shock. She is still in shock. I am sure she will come around...oh you don't need to worry about her...yes...please take care. My regards to your wife. Yes. Sure. Bye. " Mum was getting off a call with Beatrice's Dad when I came into the kitchen. She stood with both her hands at her waist looking at me like she was waiting for me to say something. I looked away from her and continued my course to the refrigerator. 

"Where are my gummy bears?" I asked without looking at her. 

"Lina–" she exhaled audibly "–I need to discuss something with you."

"About what?" I asked, my face deep in the refrigerator in search of something to eat. 

"I want a face to face discussion."

"Okay, I am trying to grab something to eat." I found something. I took my place on one of the kitchen cabinet. She stood in front of me, eyeing the junk food in my hand. 

"Lina, your recent increasing consumption of junk food is fast becoming a bother for your father and I. It has completely taken over your consumption of healthy meals. Is anything the matter?" 

"Nope," I said with a shrug. 

 "Are you sure?" she prodded giving me the eye. 

I let my eyes wander everywhere but at her face. "Yes. "

 "Well, if you say everything is okay."

I jumped off the cabinet and I was about taking my leave when she started again.

"Lina, you know you can talk to your father and I about whatever is bothering you." 

I can see she clearly wants to bring up Beatrice's death but she is not sure of how to go about it and if it is the right thing to do. A sigh escaped her lips. 

 "Mum, everything is fine," I said firmly to end the discussion.    

                ************************   

            I was alone in my room. It has become my favourite place to be since Beatrice. I was staring at the ceiling. Saturday used to be my favorite day of the weekend but not anymore. It made me miserable now. I turned on my side and my eyes caught my journal on the bedside table. It has been a while I did a journal entry. Great sorrow either makes you so expressive or so quiet. The heart is suddenly so heavy, the hands cannot write. Journalling used to be my favorite thing to do. I grabbed the journal and skimmed the pages of old entries. 

                Dear Diary 23/2/2019

                   I am super excited Chloe is coming over for the weekend...

        I rolled my eyes at this entry. Her arrival turned out to be a disaster, I still feel disgust that I was ever happy about her coming. In actual facts, I broke a leg and it was totally her fault and to think she was not remorseful. I was on crutches for two months. 

       Another entry had 

            "God has been so wonderful. Just when I was about giving up on having friends, Beatrice shows up. I actually prayed that He would send me one, I have been awfully unlucky with friends. She spoke to me first. We have only been best friends- okay, just acquaintance for a week but I feel like she would be my best friend. She already shares my interests. 'Hey, you are really quirky,' that was the first thing she said to me. I could only stare at her and she found it really funny, because she laughed a lot. I did not get the joke but I could not help smiling. Her laugh was funny. Got to go, mum is calling."

       I sighed deeply, my right hand caressing the page absentmindedly, the other hand supporting my head. The memory painted itself vividly into my imagination. Beatrice. 

       I skipped some pages and found more entries with her name. I read out "Mum thinks I hit the jackpot with Beatrice. We are getting closer by the day. She invited me to her house last week. we stayed up late into the night playing question and answer. I feel like I have known her all my life. Her parents are Jewish Christians. I think her siblings are friendly. They are older, they never really talk much. About Mum, she loves the idea that Beatrice is a straight A's student and she is christian...". I stopped reading when I got tired. She did not deserve this. How could you let this happen? And why? She loved you. She was constantly making time for your work. And what did she get in return? A gruesome death by a truck. I could barely recognize her from what was left of her from the hit. Why her? Why didn't you do something? Where is your goodness in all of this? 

       The sound of my journal dropping off the bed startled me and I realized I had fallen asleep amidst my thoughts. I replaced the journal on the bedside table and adjusted to a comfortable position on the bed. I felt a hot rush to my face and a tear trickle down the part of my face closer to the bed. More tears flowed and soon I was sobbing. Beatrice. How do I possibly go on without her? 

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Episode 4 (finale)

Episode 3

Episode 2