Short Stories

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Too Late

I sat at the back of the chapel because I might be called away any minute.
Not to mention, I was still mad at her. I recalled our last argument too well.
Therefore, I stayed at the back watching the mourners enter and walk down the aisle to view her body. So many exclamations of disbelief, no one had seen this coming. If only she were here to see the crowd asimilating, maybe she would have stayed, maybe not. If only I could summon her back, point my finger at her and say,” I told you so. See people really did care." Her spirit was willing to stay but her flesh was weak. Only I had any influence on her and I lost. She would not listen to me. Her arguments were stronger. She was convinced God would forgive her even if he didn't approve of her tactics. It wasn't the absence of God in her life that caused her do to this, it was the failure to continue with the meds that God had provided. It was user error, not the manufacturers. Her "true" friends held each other for comfort. She should have spoken to them earlier but people get uncomfortable with those kinds of conversations, and it would have embarrassed her. There wasn't enough experience in dealing with these topics despite the literature out there. I hope now they will seek out that literature, she sure should have.

I was amazed at some of the faces I saw come in. I wanted to yell,” Hypocrite", and "murderer". They hadn't actually manually killed her body but they massacred her spirit. They laughed at her. They teased her. They belittled her. They made her feel invisible, unimportant. She had responded with good humor, her mask a perfect fit to hide the pain, doubts and hurts. She had them convinced she couldn't be bruised. She was tough, fun, outgoing. She did enjoy a good laugh and applauded good retorts, but it was the sincere insults hidden in humor that got to her. She had used humor as a coat of armor. If she had just taken the mask off occasionally and tried honesty with some of these people maybe she'd still be here. She had God on her side and followed the rule of turning the other cheek but being only human, this got old. Kids can be cruel on the playground and it doesn't stop there. Cruel kids grow into cruel adults.

They weren't completely responsible for destroying her, because she had a big part in it. She had to constantly fight her body's responses to low hormones. She finally had discovered anti-depressants. As the body ages it produces less and less of desirable mood chemicals and needs a boost much as a diabetic needs outside insulin, or someone needs thyroid hormone. It is not shameful to be on pills. These pills gave her a boost but like anything, they can only do so much. She would feel better and lighten up on her meds, then swing down to the pit of despair again. Why should one take meds just to feel good around people? She would get to feeling blue and let the insults injure her. Nevertheless, her mask did a good job. She would retaliate with a joke, good humor. She wouldn't let the aggressor know they scored a point, that their blade had found the target. Boy, that was a fantastic mask; it was waterproof and concealed the tears. It made people think she was invulnerable. "Oh, if we didn't like you, we wouldn't tease you," or, "It's just her, its okay." were regular rejoinders. They took a pebble size hunk out of her soul with every recital. "That's just her," when she wanted to be taken seriously, "That's just her," when she blundered, "That's just her," when she tried to correct an error. She was eaten in small bites. If she had seen this crowd maybe she would have stayed.

They kept coming, friends (and foes) from church and from work. However, these misty-eyed people have short memories. In time, this will be forgotten. Though there is no one else like her someone else will be teased mercilessly and end up the same way. Cruel kids, cruel adults. I could hear someone asking questions, Why? How? What for? The questions were useless because if they could be answered it wouldn't reverse a thing. She would still be dead.

This was it the grand finale, the results of cruel kids grown up. She hadn't left a note. It wouldn't have solved anything. Why did they deserve any answers? It would have been like throwing pearls before swine.

The eulogy was nice, flowery, and vaguely generic. It hit the good points. Gave the family hope of seeing her again. Tried to educate the attendees on the subject of her method of death. Created sobbing. Said good-bye. Left the body just as dead. The words should have been spoken when she could hear them. She might not have believed them, though. Actions speak louder than words.

I watched as the figures filed past the coffin. They said good-bye. Some cried. Oh, give me a break, you didn't even like her, I thought. Maybe they had repented. There is hope for the next victim of depression. Some lingered, and were genuinely respectful. Some just went to follow the crowd. It really was her, they all thought." If we didn't like you we wouldn't tease you," became, "We liked you, why didn't you let us help you?" It was incredibly touching.

The family went last. I couldn't bear watching them so I closed my eyes. They were closest to her and they still had not noticed her broken spirit as they were caught up in their own problems. I did not feel real sorrow for them. As the guests exited, I could hear plans being made for lunch, tennis, movies.

Already forgotten. Other plans being made. Life goes on...for some.
I had been able to stay for the whole affair and then some. This surprised me. I had really expected to be called away. The lights were being turned off so I eventually got up, walked to the pulpit where ushers were getting ready to close the lid (they paid no attention to me) and I looked down at the tranquil face. They had not done her justice. No matter what they say, a corpse doesn't look good. A dead face just looks like it is caked in make-up.

Her spirit was definitely gone, I was one hundred percent certain. "Good bye old friend, I can't wait to be reunited with you in heaven." I kissed my forehead, turned to the last, brightest light, and went home.

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