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I forgot to shine my shoes; the thin layer of dust hangs on. Before I know it, I'm stumbling in the flowerbed and almost trip getting out. I look up to see the churchladies watch my feet with disdain. Once I catch their glance, I give them the you-can't-get-mad-at-me-I'm-burying-my-brother-who-doesn't-have-a-body-anymore look and they hastily look away.
It's sunny today... which feels odd. It was pouring rain when he died.
"Hurry up, Cora," says my douche of a dad.
I scowl at him, and he walks on. Ugh. I would so rather be lying in a ditch in Texas than having to sit with Papa for three hours in church. I was surprised he didn't burst into flames upon entering the building.
Mom is already sitting in the front pew. I want to rush over to her, but Dad's already halfway there. I move to sit in the back. Fake mourners apologize to me once they see me; I don't even turn.
Tyler, my perverted ex-boyfriend, rushes in and sits in the middle. His shaven head starts swiveling but I duck too late. The priest/minister/whatever looks annoyed as Tyler rushes towards me.
"How ya been, Cora?" he whispers. The PMW starts speaking.
"Sick now that you're here."
"I said I was sorry."
"You mean it now that my brother's dead."
"No, that's not it--"
"Sh!" A mousy woman in front of us looks at him like a cockroach; I don't blame her: Tyler is wearing khakis to a funeral along with a clip-on tie.
"Look, I wanna make things right with us."
"There is no us." There never was, now that I think about it. "Why're you here anyway?"
"Why do you think?"
"Won't that look bad?"
"Cora, he's your brother."
"And it'll look suspicious if I'm not comforting my girlfriend during her time of need." I slips his arm around me.
I squirm away, just to annoy him. "Get out of here. I'm mourning."
"Don't act so innocent. You helped."
"Shut up." I focus on the flower arrangements.
"You were there."
"It wasn't my mistake."
"You weren't exactly part of the solution. You know it wasn't supposed to end like that." He kisses my cheek before leaving, more annoyed glances at his back. I sigh and slide down in my seat. I hate the fact I'm in love with a killer.