FicWad

Of course there wasn't going to be an open casket. Not for a time like this. A time where the weak are supposed to be strong, the strong are supposed to become sensitive, the old contemplate their deaths, the young fearing it, and a tsunami of tears and sorrow.

Did I mention I hated funerals?

"This day will become a monument, shrouded in black. A perfect time to tell the corpse what you always wanted to say. If I told you now, would it help you go to heaven? Or perhaps it's so that I can sleep at night?" I thought to myself, a short poetic verse in my head.

The minister began the service, greeting the mourners and guests, thanking them for coming to this sad dreary occasion. Rub it in Chappie, rub it in....




My father's funeral was quiet, and calm. A large showing, an ocean of depressing well wishers to our family, or at least what was left of it. His secretary even had the stones to come up to us and tell us "How sorry" she was.

I spat on her face.

My left collar bone still stung and ached, the stitches kept tearing and staples weren't an option.
My father had a bad anger managment problem. If things ever turned sour for him, he'd fly off the handle.

My mother cried, which made it worse. Why should she waste her tears on such a jerk? Does she not know that the woman I just spat on, was his mistress.
My mother was weak. She was the kind of woman who would get into a car wreck, and blame the who event on herself without hesitation. She was a prime victim of my fathers domineering.....




Ethan made it harder with his sobbing. It was worse because well, just about all of us knew he was crying because his boy toy was dead. Echo remained silent, her eyes still hidden behind those damned shades. Gwen was silently sobbing, her small hand tightly clutching mine.

I think I was the only joker there, not crying, or feeling emotional. Like I've said earlier, I'm a dick and an asshole, put both together and you got a hot mess.

Everyone was crying there! I felt singled out by it, I couldn't even fake it. I don't know why I wasn't as berieved as everyone else, was it the fact that Hunter had caused so much shit in our circle of friends? Was it because I was angry that I was the last to know that he was gay?

The minister finished his speech, and motioned for me to take the stand. I nodded and made my way to the podium. I had a poem ready, and I hoped it fit the occasion.

FIREHOUSE

"YOU WERE WHAT KEPT US GOING, THE FIRE IN THE WIND.
TWO STORIES HIGH, AND GETTING HIGHER TO THE TOP.
WE WOULDN'T MAKE IT FAR WITHOUT YOU BY OUR SIDES.
WE ONLY PRAY THE RAIN WILL NOT WASH AWAY WHAT HAS
BEEN MADE, DONE, AND DEALT WITH.

YOU KEEP US GOING, LIKE DRIFTWOOD IN THE SEA
50 FATHOMS DEEP, AND GETTING DEEPER TO THE BOTTOM
WE CAN'T STAY AFLOAT WITHOUT YOU BY OUR SIDES
WE ONLY PRAY THE RIPTIDE WILL NOT DRAG US DOWN
FROM WHAT WE HAVE SEEN, HEARD, AND HAVE DONE-"

"Stop right there! Do not utter another word of that!"

I stopped, surprised by the interruption. Ethan was standing, pointing an angry finger at me.

"How dare you read that here! Of all places, how dare you!"

I started hard at him, angry with his intrusion, "What is wrong with this poem?!"

He took a few steps closer to me, "I will not have my good friend's funeral being sullied by such tasteless and profane poetry as that! Lola Chloe has no place here within these walls!"

I was shocked! He knew about Lola Chloe and her work?!

"A poem was asked for, and I have provided one. I was told that it didn't matter who it was by," I responded bitterly.

Ethan moved to the podium next to me, turning the microphone away so that the mourners could not hear us talking.

"Read a different one, or go back to your seat!" he said through clenched teeth.

"Like hell! I'm sure Hunter would have wanted this!"

Ethan grabbed ahold of my collar, like my father used to and started to pull me away from the stand.
I grasped his hand and shoved it away, "Get off of me...right now."

WIth that, Ethan grabbed me by my shoulders, trying to drag me away. I protested and gave him a hard shove. He stumbled backwards, but quickly regained his composure, leaping at me and taking at swing at my face. I took his fist to my left jaw.

I tasted my blood, and it set me off. I swung at him, striking him in the right eye, followed by a hard left hook to his nose. He crumpled to the floor, clutching his nose as blood gushed from his assaulted sinuses.

"TYLER!" Echo screamed at me, the whole congregation appauled by our duel.

I touched my hand to my lips, feeling the sting of a split lip and the metallic taste of blood.
I stared hard and long at Ethan, crumpled before me, before I stepped off of the stage and walked out of the chapel.

"Tyler!" I heard Gwen shout out to me.

I ignored her, not caring anymore, about anyone.

Did I mention I hated funerals?