FicWad

When Gerard sat back down, Miss Daley (of all people) stood up and made her way onto the stage. Made a speech about how wonderful Mikey was and how much she liked him. This was ridicilous. Of course most of the teachers at our school had favoured Mikey because he had a way of wrapping people around his little finger but not Miss Daley. She was one of the few teachers who couldn't stand him and never let him have his own way. It's weird how death changes things.

She wouldn't even let him have his own way at the school camping trip. If only she had. Then we wouldn't all be standing in this room.

Once Daley's speech is over, the choir return and sing a slow, strange version of 'Don't Stop Me Now' by Queen. Probably something else that Mikey joked about his funeral when he still thought it was years away. This singing is making me feel sick. But it was only one more sing and then the memorial service was over.

I got up and Dad told me he'd meet me outside by the car. I nodded and made my way over to Demonia "So... What did you think?" Demonia asked me.

"Of what?"

"Er... The saintification if Mikey Way. Interesting, no?"

"Demonia, it's not funny! He's dead!"

"I know. Sorry. It's just weird, that's all."

I kind of agreed with her but anger flared up inside of me even so "There's nothing weird about it. Jesus Demonia, don't you feel sad? Guilty? Don't you feel anything?"

I know that I've gone too far because Demonia looks angry. And she never gets mad at me "Of course I'm sad! I just don't happen to be one of those girls that bursts into tears every two seconds! I can't help being who I am Jasmine."

I sighed "I'm sorry... I just don't think you should joke about it. That's all."

Demonia nodded, her anger melting away "I know. Anyway, I've gotta go. Helping out with my little brothers birthday party. Boring or what?" She pretended to yawn and then left. I stood in the memorial service for a few minutes longer before finally deciding to leave myself.

On my way out to the car, I see Gerard. He's stopped crying but his little sister Missy was still sobbing. For a moment Gerard caught my eye and I was certain he was going to say something to me and I silently prayed that he wouldn't. What was I supposed to say? Gee it sure sucks that you're brothers dead... I could just hear myself saying it and cringed.

Luckily an old lady came over to him and enveloped him in a hug and started talking a mile a minute about how sorry she was and crap like that. I turned away and made my way over to the car.

Dad was there having a secret cigarette. The moment he saw me, he put it out and climbed into the car. We'd come to an uneasy agreement about the smoking. I was okay with it so long as I didn't have to see it, smell it or be anywhere near it. I got into the seat next to him and turned the radio up the moment we got out of the car park. The music helped clear my thoughts. But Dad had to ruin it by turning it down "How are you doing then?"

"Fine thanks." I replied, hoping he'd drop it. I just didn't want to talk about it.

"His poor parents. They looked so lost. I managed to talk to them for a couple of minutes. His Dad just can't believe what happened." I swallowed, hoping that he'd stop talking "Gerard was so brave getting up in front of all those people. When was the last time you saw him? He's grown up so much. Last time I saw him, he was a scrawny little buggar."

I didn't say anything but I knew Dad was waiting for a response so eventually I just mumbled "Yeah."

It seemed to do the job because Dad kept on wittering while I looked out the window and paid no attention to him. Dad doesn't seem to notice that he's pretty much talking to himself. Or maybe he noticed and just didn't mind.

There was a special session after school last week for parents of those who'd been on the trip. Dad had told me all about it afterwards. There was a physcologist who specialised in stuff like that and he said there was no wrong or right way to grieve. Well I disagree. Writing 'i miss u soooooo much but i no ur in a betta place xxxxxx' on the 'R.I.P. Mikey Way' Facebook page is the wrong way to grieve in my opinion. There are two pages. One only has 9 likes but the other has 242. I'm ashamed to say that I will probably make it 243. Just so that no one realises that I'm not there.

Finally Dad pulls up outside our house and I leap out of the car the moment the engine stops. i run into the house and take the stairs two at a time, desperate to get out of these too tight jeans. I burst into my bedroom and found Mikey sitting at the end of my bed, waiting for me.