Cara's Funeral

This story was inspired by the song that is in it. The song is called "Lucy" by Skillet
ALL CREDIT FOR THE SONG GOES TO SKILLET

This is dedicated to Ranger Hawk for being awesome and being the first Skillet fan not of my own creation, and for a friend of mine whos family recently suffered a loss. I wish them the best in coping with it

Hope you all out there enjoy and please tear it to shreds!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The day of the funeral the sky was covered in dark depressing clouds. There was the occasional spot of blue that was the happiness some people might feel today for they did not know her. But for me, the dark clouds were me; depressed, and heavy.

Walking across the street to the funeral home, I stared at those clouds sensing the irony of them. The wind blew at me causing my knee-length black dress to flow around my legs and my black-brown hair to fly out behind me.

I turned to face my husband, Ryan, who slipped his arm reassuringly around my waist; he knew how hard this was going to be. I smiled grimly at his bright green eyes and soft brown hair. I longed to just stop in the middle of the street and have him hold me and let us drift away to the real world. A world where she was still alive. We reached the almost forbidden looking doors of the funeral home and I reached to open them, breathing deeply. There was no going back now.

We walked into a large room with a hand wood floor and walls covered in hand painted water lilies that smelled of burnt toast and damp tissues. A casket made of gleaming white wood stood on a raised dais next to a mahogany piano that was tuned and ready for playing. I felt my heart leap at the sight of the casket, she was in there; her small, Claustrophobic self in a tight, shiny, compressed box that would soon be covered in dirt.

Upon hearing our arrival, everyone in the funeral home bombarded Ryan and I giving condolences and asking us how we were both coping with our loss, everything was suddenly a cloud of black and sorrow and even though it was the last thing Ryan wanted to do and it still pained me to hear her name, we both grinned grimly and bared it until the silvery piano music began to flow through the home signaling the beginning of the funeral.

Everyone silently began to move to sit in the small white wicker chairs in front of the casket and as Ryan and I made our way to sit in the front row, I felt my heart wrench and tears began to loom in the back of my eyes. I hadn’t been this close to her since that night in the hospital and this is not what how I wanted to remember our last moment together before she was buried and was gone forever.

The funeral home director walked down the long aisle between the two large groups of chairs and up to the altar on the dais, he set a small leather bound book onto the altar and gave us all a slight nod. Taking a deep breath, he spoke out in a loud, clear, husky voice,

“We are here today to remember Carathina Demarrow, a beloved daughter and a treasured sister,” he said glancing at me. I looked down at my feet, the threat of tears causing my eyes to sting.

The director commenced to describe Cara, her childhood, what kind of person she was; all the while I hardly listened.

This man didn’t know her at all; you could see it in his eyes. He didn’t know just how trustworthy a person she was, or how smart she was or anything personal about her. He just repeated what most people said at funerals.

He didn’t know that she whimpered in her sleep whenever she felt guilty about something, or that when she lied she would itch her left ear and shiver, those things he didn’t know. Those were things I knew and knowing them caused my tears to fall.

“And now, to close our ceremony, Catalane Demarrow will play one of Carathina’s favorite songs.” The director said bringing me out of my thoughts.

I stood up and walked toward the steps of the dais, the sound of the heels on my shoes clicking on the hardwood. Once at the steps, I felt Ryan slip his arm around me and support my weight as I made my way up the steps. Stairs were still incredibly hard for me to climb, even though all my other injuries from the crash had recovered except for the damage done to my heart and the incredibly slight limp I still had that made stairs all the less fun.

I came to the top of the dais and made my way over to the small leather bench in front of the piano, my tears blurring my vision. Spreading the music sheet, I took a deep breath and moved toward the small microphone.

“This song was very close to my sister’s heart, and she was close to mine. Ladies and gentlemen, this song is called Lucy.”

I gently placed my fingers on the keys and began to play the first few notes, their silvery sound flowing through out my fingers and then through my body. After my fingers began to play mechanically from hours of practice, I opened my mouth and began to sing with the voice my sister and I had never used without my sister harmonizing with me.

Hey Lucy, I remember your name
I left a dozen roses on your grave today
I’m in the grass on my knees,
Wipe the leaves away
I just came to talk for a while got thing, that I need to say

Now that it’s over
I just wanna hold her
I’d give up all the world to see that little piece of heaven lookin back at me
Now that its over
I just wanna hold her
I’ve gotta live with the choices I made
And I can’t live with myself today

Hey Lucy I remembered your birthday

They said it’d bring some closure to say your name
I know I’d do it all different if I had the chance
But all I got are these roses to give
And they can’t help me make amends

Now that its over
I just wanna hold her
I’d give up all the world to see that little piece of heaven lookin back at me
Now that its over
I just wanna hold her
I’ve gotta live with the choices I made
But I can’t live with myself today

As I sang, images of Cara walking through the kitchen singing the song with her soft high voice ascending every note perfectly, causing me to join in flashed through my mind along with images of that last night in the hospital; me kneeling beside her despite my own critical conditions, praying with all my might that she be saved. With this image, came brand new tears, flowing faster and blurring my image even more. Luckily, I enough control on my voice at the moment to keep it steady and my fingers knew the notes like it knew the bones that made up the fingers themselves.

Taking a steadying breath I continued to sing:

Here we are
Now your in my arms
I never wanted anything so bad
Here we are
For a brand new start
Living the life that we could’ve had

Me and Lucy walking hand in hand
Me and Lucy never wanna end
Just another moment in your eyes
I’ll see you in another life
In heaven where we never say goodbye

Here we are, now you’re in arms
Here we are for a brand new start
Got to live with the choices I’ve made
And I can’t live with myself today

I closed my eyes and let out a small sob as memories of Cara’s life began to race through my mind, playing the last few notes I shuddered a breath and sang:

Hey Lucy I remember your name…

As I sat there trying to regain my composure, I heard the director, his voice almost like background music to the racing memories, invite everyone to the small café down the street, one of my sister’s favorites, for brunch.

I heard everyone slowly shuffle out of the room, all mumbling saddening words or crying from their own memories and experiences they had with Cara, and I felt Ryan standing at my back, ready to help me down the steps of the dais.

Standing up, I made my way toward the casket, with the memories of Cara growing stronger the closer I got to the casket, and the closer to the casket the faster I got, eventually coming to the steps and, without waiting for Ryan to help me down, threw myself down them. Landing shakily on my feet, pain coursing up my newly-healed leg, I threw myself across the shining casket sobbing openly.

Ryan came down and put his arms around me, hoping to comfort me in some way. But nothing could comfort me now. My sister was gone and so was half my life.

-END-

Good. I like this. I feel that it more belongs in fan fiction. Nice writing, it i very detailed and observant, good job. I have never been to a funeral before but this seems like a good portrayal, my favorite line is the last one "My sister was gone and so was half my life." Good ending, I was glad you were not one of those writers that leave on
a happy note when your writing sad pieces.
Good job

Aw, I really liked this. I almost cried. (Because I'm a cry baby when it come to these type of things) Wow, you are an excellent writer. I hope you never stop what you're doing, and, also, please write more! I'll be looking out for your name. Well, that's all, bye-bye now!

(The elephants, they dance for you. You have pleased them.)

First off, thanks for dedicating it to me, too!

Secondly, that was excellent! I had chills running down me halfway through it, and my eyes were starting to well up (can't cry; I'm in the college computer lab, that'd be really weird!). You did such an awesome job, I've got to look that song up on Youtube or something. Thank you for posting!

Irishfire! Hello! You have a cool username, haha. I'm June, your reviewer for the moment.

Skillet, huh? Not every day I find a fan of them! (I'm a closet fan, really. ) Let's get to work on this:

To be honest, I didn't find much interest in this. Your opening line was not especially hooking, and the description in it was rather purply. I would cut down a bit on the adjectives used here and try to convey the feeling through more solid words. Don't describe the clouds as depressing, as if you mentioned that the sky was just cloudy, we would get the gist that the setting is depressing.

In addition, I don't like these sort of descriptions:

Walking across the street to the funeral home, I stared at those clouds sensing the irony of them. The wind blew at me causing my knee-length black dress to flow around my legs and my black-brown hair to fly out behind me.

I know that this is a way to show what's happening and not tell us, but it becomes really boring. It feels like you're taking too much time away from the focus of the event to picture on small things that we don't really need. If the event is a heavy one, such as a wedding, or in this case, a funeral, we need to focus on that, and nothing else. Don't dedicate whole paragraphs to a detail.

I do really like how you do tune into what the speaker is saying. That part is good stuff, fire.

I don't think the ending of this is effective, Irishfire. Instead of closing with such a flat sentence, I think you should seal the story with something else. A memory, perhaps, or something else that makes the reader think and feel the impact of the story on them. I don't really feel Cata's loss in this much, because her thoughts seemed to be focused on other things.

See, if this was writ in third person, then all of the detail wouldn't be a problem. Because it's first, it seems like Cata's paying attention to everything shiny, and that's kind of a distracting thing to have for us, because we need to feel more of her hurt. I'd like to see a little bit more building on this, perhaps flesh a few things out a tad more.

Good luck. Thanks for the read. 'Twas very appreicative.

June

Wow, Irish fire that was truly amazing! I read one of your first posts and it was hilarious but this had so much integrity and feeling. I think you are an amazing writer if you can change the mood of all your stories like that. Also, you always put so much effort into your stories, just like this one. Please write more of this stuff, its great.

funeral the sky was covered in dark depressing clouds.

you could tell why it is dark by giving some details...

away to the real world. A world where she was still alive.

a comma instead of period...i think

I felt my heart leap at the sight of the casket, she was in there

i think period than comma

giving condolences and asking us how we were both coping with our loss, everything was suddenly a cloud of black and sorrow and even though it was the last thing Ryan wanted to do and it still pained me to hear her name, we both grinned grimly and bared it until the silvery piano music began to flow through the home signaling the beginning of the funeral.

i think you need to separate it in sentences

I gently placed my fingers on the keys and began to play the first few notes, their silvery sound flowing through out my fingers and then through my body. After my fingers began to play mechanically from hours of practice, I opened my mouth and began to sing with the voice my sister and I had never used without my sister harmonizing with me.

the only problem here is that i think you overuse the words, "and". try seperating it into sentences.

I like the plot. It is simple but you had managed to elaborate the story to reveal the character the relationship between the main character and the deceased person. Just wondering if the deceased person is the sister of the protangonist noted by the funeral director or a daughter??

Other than that, the lyrics…should possibly be at the centre of the piece. The Lyrics in other sense could be written in Italics because (possibly) it is not a dialogue that a character spoke to themselves in respect but a form of narrative. So in a way, it could be italicized.

Overall, the story is a bit nice. You were able to set a tone to the story though the first part where you describe the mood was more of showing than revealing. How come the clouds are depressing?? What colours are they that make them depressing? Are they cumulus or stratus clouds? But aside from that, the story is simple but nicely elaborated.

WOW! Thanks everyone for the fantastic reviews! I'm so glad you love it!

Thank you so much!

-Irish