Number 33

Chapter 7 - Seeing Him

Chapter 7 - Seeing Him.

The next Wednesday was the viewing.

I didn't know how to feel. I had to go. That was the one thing I knew for sure, though.

It would definitely be hard, but so is life honestly, as cliched as that is. I owe it to him. He picked up my self-worth, brushed it off, and handed it back to me, good as new. He was one of my only sources of light in a dark time.

It's like light pollution in big cities. As smog builds, like negativity, it gets harder to see the stars twinkling above. In fact, it makes a truly full sky seem vast, empty, and ominous. He was one of the stars that shone through anyways.

So, in this dark time, I need to be someone's light. Oh, who am I kidding myself, I need to go for myself. I need closure. It'll be that firm pinch that I need to prove that I'm not just stumbling through a nightmare, awaiting reality.

I spent the day talking to people, as it's something I do well (and too often, sometimes), about the looming evening.

I debated with people on if it were really going to be a viewing. I mean, there's no way he could be there. He died from a head injury, for Christ's sake. That's not something that shows easily in an open casket.

Also, he was a donor. His brain is the first in the world to be used to research the effects of concussions in sports. His heart was donated to a man who needed it. His lungs went to a woman. His liver and kidney went to a mother. His pancreas went to a man with cancer. His eyes used for research.

While this is extremely great news and everything, it made me upset still. Maybe because I'm an extremely selfish person. There's nothing left of him. There's no way he'll be there tonight.

I'm going. Right now, I have a huge, open wound. I can either find closure, and get metaphorical stitches, or let it infect and fester and ruin me from the inside out.

I'll go with the first option.

I anxiously awaited the evening, feeling sick. Nauseous and hungry at the same time. I made myself eat, and put on a coat. It was silent as my sister drove me to the school. I said goodbye and wrapped my jacket around me even tighter as I walked through the frigid air, towards the entrance. Many of my peers stood congregated in clusters, talking, outside. I meekly made my way past and through the doors, blessing God for the invention of heaters once I made it in.

There were guest sheets, so I signed in. Looking around, I must've seemed lost, for I was. There was a long line extending from the huge auditorium into the lobby, and I didn't know what it led to. I decided to head into the main room since none of my friends were there, and scope it out. My hand subconsciously gripped the pack of tissues in my jacket's pockets. Anticipation.

I saw the line's beginning. It led to the family, the mother and uncle being the only ones I could recognize, and a casket.

An open one.

Though I couldn't see into it from the back of the room where I stood, it made my heart feel as if it had stopped, when in reality it had started to beat faster. I sat in one of the many empty seats and numbly took everything in. Friends hugging each other. People talking amidst themselves. Lots of people crying. Adults praying over teens.

It was hard to digest. Things just got even more real.

I decided that I had to join the line. I stood in the never-ending queue of mourners, feeling awkward. Even in this situation, I have no one. I rocked back and forth on my tall wedges, trying to pass time. It didn't necessarily seem appropriate to be playing on my phone, but I whipped it out anyways and started reading on it. The line would occasionally shuffle in the most agonizingly slow way. I wasn't being impatient- just anxious.

I looked on as more people hugged and cried and laughed as my phone buzzed in my hand, snapping my attention back to the lowly lit screen. My best friend had gotten here with a mutual friend, and wanted to know where I was.

Waiting in line. In the middle of the front lobby.

I replied quickly, fingers tapping away. I welcomed them as they neared, giving me a hug and asked how I was. Elise, my best friend, handed me a napkin. Just in case, she said. We somberly stood in the line, and it was hard for me to think of anything to say.

Hey, so are you as sad as I am? Because I sure am torn up!

Hey, how much does it suck that someone with such a bright future is gone?

So, seen any cute boys today?

See? It's hard to know what to say, and the only things on my mind weren't right. Elise and I stood together, holding hands, as our mutual friend slipped off. We inched forward with the line, and I could tell that Elise was pretty shaken upon seeing the inside of the auditorium.

After a couple minutes of us being inside the main room, a girl with tears (and mascara) streaming down her face came up to us.

"He does not look like himself." She said, trying not to sob. A look of shock crossed my face.

"Wait, he's really here?" I asked in disbelief. All she could afford was a chin quivering, solemn nod. I gulped, and I'm pretty sure everyone could hear it.

Elise and I stood in that line for 30 or so more minutes until we reached the front of the room. I looked at her, took a deep breath, and walked up to the casket. What I saw took my breath away, and left me there feeling empty. There laid Aiden. His eyelids were closed, and his face was caked in makeup. His hands were white. His favorite cap was on his head, successfully covering the area of impact while also showing his favorite team. The Greenbay Packers. His football gloves lay near him, and I felt myself slipping up. All of the telling myself that I'm okay, all of the trying to be okay, vanished. I was left there, raw and broken.

I eventually got back to moving and wanted to talk to his mom, but she as busy and I didn't want to overwhelm her. Elise and I went back to sitting in the back, and we couldn't stop crying. People came by with tissues as I sat with my head on her shoulder. Her support was everything. All I had at the moment.

It was there we sat and talked about the boy that once was.