Tears, Nostalgia, And My Sister Funeral

January 9, 2018
By padfoot_333 BRONZE, New York, New York
padfoot_333 BRONZE, New York, New York
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

“Come on Lily stop being so slow, if me and Rose can run this fast you can too!” yelled an 11 year old Jake.
“Stop being so harsh, she’s only 4.” scolded Rose, slowing her pace and taking Lily’s hand as she ran along beside her in the meadow which was sprinkled with flowers.

Lily snapped back to reality, her eyes- storm clouds of blues and greys- were filled with tears, which were like rain trickling down her pale, soft cheeks. She sniffed quietly. That was one of her fondest memories of Rose. The feeling that she would always remember when her sister stood up for her, her heat bursting with joy, excitement tingling throughout her body. Lilly reminisced that day…
There was a shallow waterway at brink of the meadow. The grass was copious and plush grass, cultivating in thick tussocks. The oak tree provided shade from the sun –which was pouring out brilliant shades of hot red ands oranges in the dark blue sky. Which thankfully turned out to be a breezy and stimulating respite after the mid-summer sun. The meadow rest serene in the condensing light of the late afternoon. Racing up and down the fields with her siblings with her parents laughing on a picnic rug, with a glass of red wine in their hands and a camera in another. There was also another person present there on there little day trip. Grandpa Swan. The eldest relative alive in the ‘Swan family’ according to her dad, which was one of the last things her dad had mentioned about Grandpa Swan. The father and son had a huge argument a couple of weeks later. Lilly being 6 years old at the time could not recall a thing about the argument but according to Jake later on it was a ‘nasty brawl and you should be glad you can’t remember a thing like that’.

Lilly winced as she thought of these past time memories. After all she had nothing to do but hide in the toilets. She hated the sympathetic eyes from everyone and the same monotone, robotic phrase of “I am sorry for your loss, please accept my condolences’. She knew what Rose would say “ Honestly Lills, forgot about them and their pity…I don’t even know half of them”. Then she would laugh, her distinctive laugh tinkling in the air and a smile as wide as a mile beaming as she would throw her hair back. Her thoughts drifted back to Grandpa and the last time she saw him nearly 5 years ago. She let her memories travel back in time to the thoughts of a 6-year-old girl…

Grandpa is  ‘swumping’ in his travel chair, with a glass of ‘grape juice’ in his hand and is grooming his sliver-white moustache. His wide forehead has numerous lines.. It’s a very pwetty colour, the grape juice- like a red rose but it’s*transwucent (a word Jakey taught me) and reminds me of the story of Snow White and how her mummy asked Snow White’s lips to be as red as a rose. I ask Grandpa for some but he just chuckled and said when I was older. That’s not very nice and I would normally throw a big fuss, but I listened to him because I like Grandpa and he is the only one who treats me like a big girl like Rose. Grandpa looks*vewwy funny today he’s not dressed like a sea captain (like the captain from ‘The Little Mermaid’) and looks a bit rewaxed. He’s wearing a very bright colourful rainbow top- a monster apparently puked rainbows on his top according to Rose- but daddy told me it was called a tie-dye top. It’s rather pwetty but the swirls make me dizzy and I’m suddenly on a roller coaster. My heads hurts when I stare it. Anyway he’s also wearing funny chocwate –brown shorts, which DO NOT go well with his top even I ‘no’ that which proves I’m quite clever since Jakey said 6-year-olds are dwumb! Grandpa is also wearing MY hat. The bright pwink one with glitter and Hannah Montana on the side – he’s a clown!  Everyone says its because he wants to look funny (like a clown) and also to keep the sun from his eyes because he left his hat at home, but I don’t think so. I think its because he wants to hide his scruffy bird-nest hair which is quite short but still messy its is like a bale of short hay I saw at the farm last year…

Lilly woke up and found out she was lying in her bed. She guessed she had fallen asleep and her parents had moved her upstairs. Judging by the faint murmuring downstairs most of the people had left. She picked up book and started to read. Sadness overcame her as she read the last two lines of my book, “ I do Augustus, and I do”. Suddenly she was crying- the tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down her face. She could feel the muscles of her chin tremble like that small 6-year-old child would- not just because of the sad ending of the ‘The Fault In Our Stars’ but because of Rose and how empty she felt inside… like a hollow corpse. She visualised Roses’ body lying there besides the car; her body lay besides the car like a doll over the thick blanket of white, limbs at awkward angles and her head held in such a way that she could not have been sleeping or unconscious. She ran downstairs to her mother for comfort but there was someone there in the living room. Before entering the room she wiped her pearl- shaped tears and went inside to see who it was. A short man with a black pressed suit had his back turned to her. He had gleaming shoes that glistened in the light and a soft looking leather briefcase in one hand. The back of his hair was clipped and short but it was evident he was an old man since he had a fringe of grey-white hair around his balding. The mystery man turned around. Her mouth dropped, and the room became quiet. The silence was deafening…

“Hello, Lilly. “whispered Grandpa Swan.

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