Blood for Blood
The Funeral

Her parents wanted to have the funeral the next day, and I don’t blame them. They also wanted her body to be cremated, but I begged them not to. I couldn’t think of her body being burned to nothing but dust. I know my thinking is completely irrational, but I couldn’t help it. Her body will decompose and turn to dust anyway… But I am not ready to say goodbye. It just sounds so much more final.

So, they stitched her up the best they could considering, and laid her in a coffin. They dressed her in white and did her hair and makeup. It’s almost like she could be sleeping, just ready to wake up to the morning sunlight. It is a closed coffin, but her body is at least whole.

I sit in front of her coffin the entire time. I don't seem to notice the flowers that have been laid so precisely on top of her casket. I have no idea what the preacher is saying. I pay no attention to the condolences people give me and her parents as they pass by the body of my Sunshine.

All I know is that my whole life is in a pine box.

Everything is dark. I hurt. The pain is deep and endless.

The only consolation is knowing that soon, I will have my revenge. I can’t make this right. Nothing will be able to make this right… Her soul has left her body for… Something.

I want nothing more than to join her wherever it is she exists. But I can’t! Not until I squeeze the life from whoever would take a life of one so pure as her.

I am vaguely aware of moving to the cemetery.

I watch in confusion as they lower her coffin into the ground… But it doesn't make sense to me.

I panic!

No! Stop! Don’t put her in the ground!

They can’t put her in the ground! It’s cold and dark down there! She will be all alone! I won’t be able to see her! I need to keep her safe! She won’t be safe if she is in the ground… She can’t breathe under the ground! No one would be able to hear her if she screamed down there…

I almost run to the coffin to stop them… I can’t let her go down there! I can’t say goodbye! I am not ready to let her go…

But my father practically tackles me, bracing me with a hug, holding me still. He looks into my eyes and I see the sadness there. I see he wants to comfort me, but also the knowledge that I could never be comforted right now. But there is also a determination to see justice served.

Mom reaches out and holds my hand and squeezes it gently, lending me her strength as I break down and sob into her shoulder.

“I won’t say that it will be okay, Justin,” she whispers to me. “Because it’s not. Nothing can make this okay. But, I will say that someday it won’t hurt so much.”

Someday it won’t hurt so much… The words echo through my head over and over again. I don' know if I will live long enough for that to happen.

Then an idea occurs to me. Maybe I don’t have to…