Setting Suns | A Coania Short Story

17 | The Different Ways We Grieve

Interment

(n.) The burial of a corpse in a grave or tomb, typically with funeral rites.

Everything happened so fast that the memories blurred together in his head. All he could focus on was the sound of the soft music box tune that resonated against the hollow walls of the church.

Archways stretched out above him and clung onto the ceiling painted with angels in giant puffs of clouds. Lanterns hung down every aisle and illuminated the room with a warm, yellow glow.

Gold and silver lined the display at the end of the aisle where a wide table rested in the center of two small podiums. Rows upon rows of wooden benches occupied most of the floor, the windows tinted and painted with different depictions from a religious story.

Cole wasn't religious at all. Even if he were to believe in a creator, he knew he'd end up spending the rest of his days blaming them for the hell that was his life.

But she'd requested this, which was surprising that she still found the time to arrange everything she wanted to happen at her funeral despite being a few moments away from death's clutches.

Vania's abilities never ceased to amaze him. Even after she had left.

All around him people cried and wailed, emotions having taken over their logical thinking. The one's he'd assumed were her relatives were passing over a box of tissue after already having emptied two.

Cole couldn't bring himself to cry anymore, having dehydrated himself from tears in his car a few hours ago. He didn't have a voice either, his throat parched and tired from all the screaming he'd tried so hard to stop.

It was just as well, Vania wouldn't want to see him crying over something he knew was bound to happen someday. Although a part of him was trying to be practical, there was still the denial that screamed, "It didn't have to be this soon!" at the back of his head.

His footsteps grew heavier with each step, though that could just be because of the casket he was carrying on his shoulder, but the floor suddenly seemed more interesting than looking at Harumi's red and swollen eyes again.

Cole still couldn't put the pieces together of what had gone wrong. Even when the three day-long wake had provided him time to think, all that entered his mind were the condolences and apologies of her family members.

"Could you at least try to be respectful?" Harumi had scolded him one time after Cole simply nodded to acknowledge the presence of one of their aunts. Her voice was congested from the amount of crying she'd done.

Lloyd was doing amazing at his job of playing host and could be seen comforting each and every one of their relatives with his soft and kind words of affirmation. Cole had done the complete opposite since day one.

Cole had looked her dead in the eyes and said, "Apologies won't bring her back."

They didn't bring her back before, and they wouldn't bring her back now. But for some reason, a part of him was still hoping that this was all a dream. That he was still right by her side and everything was all part of a horrible nightmare his mind had trapped him in.

There wasn't a name for the place he was in right now. It was like a stage between denial and acceptance where he was a little bit of both. Cole accepted the fact that she was gone, that that was the last night they all spent together.

What he couldn't accept was how everything had gone to hell the second that hope had presented itself right in front of them. The events of that night were still clear and vivid in his mind that it felt like he was there every time he chose to remember.