FicWad

A funeral without a body is like a wedding without a bride. Or a groom.

Demonia's sitting in the second row. She's looking down at the ground which is probably just as well as she's probably smiling right now. Demonia's always been weird around other people.

I guess in any other situation I'd be laughing or smiling too. It's just so ridicilous. It's a memorial service but no one is wearing black. I'm wearing my purple skinny jeans and a baggy dark pink 'Hello Kitty' tee shirt. Apparently he used to joke about his funeral, saying he didn't want it to be all sad and mopey. I guess he said that because he thought his funeral was years away.

Sometimes I used to imagine my funeral too. It was nothing like this. And it certainly didn't involve the school choir coming out and singing 'Keep Holding On' by Avril Lavigne. Crayon Jones is standing center stage. She makes it through the first verse before dissolving into tears. Real tears. I know because I've been crying similiar tears for days.

Tears of shock.
Tears of sadness.
Tears of guilt.





School's been weird since it happened. On the first day back, every teacher said something about him at the start of lesson. Some were more upset than others. Even Miss Daley, who hadn't even known her, seemed extremely upset.

I keep looking over at Demonia... I can't help it. She's picking at her skirt, a habit she has when she's bored. Except Demonia hardly ever wears skirts. But today is some kind of special occassion. I catch Demonia's eye and she waves slightly at me. I shake my head the tiniest bit so that only she can see me. She shrugs her shoulders and goes back to grooming her skirt. Jesus.

I shouldn't be surprised that Demonia's not crying. She never does. She thinks girls who cry all the time are pathetic. Sad movies? Nothing to get upset over. The boy you love doesn't like you in return? Get over it. Easy for her I guess when she has Ray and a large family who loves her.

I'm close to tears myself. This reminds me too much of Mum's funeral. Please God, let this be over soon. Mia's the only one who had the right idea by not turning up. She probably stayed at home, curled up with Frank. Either that or she's pretended to be sick. Maybe she got away with just pulling the 'depressed emo' card. Either way, I wished I hadn't turned up. Probably could've gotten away with it too. Just by saying that it would've reminded me too much of Mum or something. Dad would've understood.

He reaches over and takes my hand now, squeezing it. I squeezed it back and held back tears. I don't know whether I'm crying over Mikey or Mum.

I remember feeling mad at Dad for a bit. When I got back, he was going on about psychollogists, counsellors, stuff like that. It irritated me. I didn't need any of that bullshit. Nothing like that could help me.

The singing's over thank god. And then someone that I've never seen before gets up to read a passage from one of his favourite books. I'm surprised to find it's a book that I brought for him ages ago. I didn't think he'd even bothered to read it.

And then Gerard stood up. He made his way up and climbed onto the stage, holding a few sheets of paper in his hands. He took a deep breath and then started reading "I'd like to thank you all for coming out today. It means a lot to me and my family. Mikey would've liked it that you're all here." He took another breath, trying to stop his hands shaking "My brother was the most annoying brother in the world." Some people are shocked. Demonia is leaning forward, more interested now "I mean it. He drove me mental. He never let me have the remote control. He used to borrow my iPod without asking and then give it back to me when the battery was drained. He listened in on my phone conversations and read nearly all of my text messages. He could rip me to shreds in most arguements and then he'd go running to Mum, blaming it all on me. He could wrap everyone around his little finger."

I looked up at him and he smiled "My brother was the best brother in the world. Whenever I was ill, he'd make me tomato soup and bread and butter. And he wasn't stingy. I mean, he'd butter it all the way to the ends. He taught me that if a girl askes if her bum looks big in an outfit, you always say no. He covered for me when I was wasted and puked all over the carpet. He blamed it on the dog. Sorry, Mom. And overall, he was always painfully honest. Even if it wasn't what I wanted to hear."

A strange noise escaped Gerard's throat as if he was struggling not to cry "And now I've got the remote. My iPod's always fully charged and I can have phone conversations in peace. But I don't want any of that. I just want my brother back." That was when he burst into tears.