Miss.Leather Jacket

#TrueStory

~3 days later~

"Ivy. Well, what is there to be said about her?" Noah began, his blue eyes wide and little hazy. "Actually, there is too much to be said about her and I doubt that this time would be enough."
 The people who weren't in tears gave out a soft chuckle. Noah continued.

"Ivy was never a no one. She always had the spotlight on her, even when she didn't want it. She walks into a room and the next thing you know, she's the topic you're talking about. And then, she walked into our lives. Technically, she danced and screamed her way into our lives that day she came here - the day she moved in with her parents." Noah stole a glance at her parents, her mom sniffling and her dad comforting her.

"For some odd reason, she stuck to us. Like, you're having a bad day and you look forward to spending your time with Ivy. She was always enough to make you laugh with her antics. You know, I never really understood the purpose of saying a dead person was great or had an amazing soul but Ivy did. She definitely had a beautiful heart - one that was dripping with sarcasm but still a beautiful one, indeed. But I know one thing for sure: Everybody here does, at one point or another, understand what I'm saying. Thank you." With that, Noah ended and made his way to his seat, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his tux jacket. Now, many people were in tears, pouring their eyes out at Noah's amazing eulogy.

"Would anyone else like to say something?" The funeral priest asked, looking around at all the grieving faces. Everyone looked at each other's faces, but I didn't dare turn from the front. My eyes were looking  straight ahead at the casket - which was open, white roses peeking out the top. Just as the priest was about to continue, someone from the back stood up, heavy footsteps coming closer towards the front. Suddenly, a familiar hand was on my shoulder for a moment, before it retreated and the owner made his way to the podium.

Boss.

Clearing his throat, he looked around, his jet black eyes scrutinizing every figure before they landed on mine and he gave me a soft smile.

"I'm sure most of you know who Ivy was to me. Well, if you don't, she was my niece. But I never did look at her like that. She was - is - my daughter. It's not my place to say this, but Ivy had a few difficulties with her parents, allowing me to take care of her. I'm not going to say much, but one thing,"- now, he looked at the eyes of Ivy's parents, both of whose eyes were transfixed on his black ones. "You missed your chance with an angel. Thank you." As he moved to take his seat, Ivy's mom broke down, her sobs loud but controlled, not sloppy.

"If that is all, we can go on to the next matters." The priest let the sentence trail off, inviting anyone else who wanted to speak but no one stepped forward and so he proceeded with the rites and bullshit that I didn't bother to care about.

~~~~~

The funeral was over.

People stood up and moved toward the casket, looking - or more like staring - at Ivy but none touched her. All of their hands stopped at the edge of the casket.

Now, I actually  understood what Hazel meant when no one wanted to touch Augustus as he laid in his death bed. No one wanted to feel the cold of death on themselves until it was their time and no one wanted to feel how others felt in death. They say so much about a dead person but when it really came to it, no one wanted to have any contact with the dead person. For them, the dead person ceased to be a person the moment their last breath was taken and only remained as a corpse.

I stood up and moved towards her, her body eerily still. Suddenly, I forgot about everyone else being here, but it was only me and Ivy.

"I'm sorry, Ivy. I'm sorry I couldn't save you." I whispered and took a deep breath as my voice quivered. A shiver ran through me and I touched her hair, pushing it away from her face. Her body was cold, its usual warmth lost and in its place, a feel of plastic. She was wearing a knee length black dress and on top of that, a leather jacket. My knees buckled at that, the shiny material smooth under my fingertips. She didn't have a smile on her face though, it was as if all emotion had been wiped from her face other than peace and her hands - seeming like they were made for this - clutched at a white rose bouquet.