Finding Emily

{Chapter 12}

  Becca spent a lot of time with Jamie that week, and it felt natural to fall into that pattern because they had known each other for so long. She liked him a lot even though she was still hurting over Kyle, and she was talking to Patrick on a daily basis. She still saw Thomas, and at first she had dreaded going to World Geography and sit with the boy who clearly hadn't liked her to begin with. It was fresh hurt, and she thought it would be hard to deal with, but thankfully he didn't seem aware of her crush. She was glad for her subtly although she sometimes wondered if that was part of the problem as no one ever knew how she felt.

  She dreaded every day leading up to Emily's funeral even though Jamie and school were a nice distraction from everything that was going on. People were still staring at her mostly because the funeral was in the news, and there were a few of Emily's friends who were angry about not being invited, but Becca explained it was only for family and close friends. This only offended them more. She wanted to scream at them. There had been two public memorials, and now the funeral was for their family. Deal with it! It wasn't about them! 

  She had a new black dress that she bought at the mall with her Mom. It felt strange going to the mall to buy something to wear to her little sister's funeral. Her only other black dress was torn at the first memorial, and it couldn't be repaired. They were quiet at the mall as she chose the second dress she tried on, and they stopped to get frozen yogurt. Becca sat in the busy mall that Emily used to frequent as a pre-teen, and Becca ate strawberry yogurt while the dress she was going to wear to her little sister's funeral sat beside her. A few people came up to them as they recognized them from television and expressed their condolences Some only gawked. It was a strange celebrity that Becca hated, and the reason she rarely went anywhere except to the park with Jamie and to school.

  The funeral was on Sunday, and it was a quiet and peaceful ceremony that Becca actually ended up feeling was a fitting tribute. The coffin was white with pink trim on it, and Becca couldn't stop staring. She couldn't wrap her mind around that her sister was inside. It was a closed coffin. She wanted to run up and throw open the lid even though she knew she wouldn't. Her Mom wept the entire ceremony, and her Dad stayed stoic as if that was expected of him, but he began to cry openly as they started to carry Emily outside. It was harder for Becca to watch her parents than to see Emily's coffin. 

   Becca saw all of her friends had come. They were all dressed in their formal clothes again. Kyle was there too. He sat with them even though Becca hadn't spoken to him since the day outside Brian's house. She was glad he showed up. She was worried he might stay away, and she didn't want that. Brian was there too, and he helped carry the casket. He was their childhood friend, and he'd even held Emily after she was born. They had a picture of three year old Brian holding the newborn Emily somewhere in their many photo albums. Now he was helping carry her remains.

   It rained on the mourners as they buried her in the peaceful countryside cemetery where all the Branson family members were buried. There were relatives that dated back to the mid-1800's who had come from Scotland to America. Emily was with them now. Her tombstone was in the shape of a heart with butterflies all over it, and her name in her own handwriting across it which was Becca's idea. It also had a quote that Becca knew Emily loved because she scrawled it on her wall, and she was grounded for a month for doing so, but they let her keep it anyway. It was still there.

  It was a beautiful cemetery in a way, thought Becca. She and Emily used to come out and see their relative's graves and take pictures – or sometimes just sit and talk. It had been one of their favorite places. Becca remembered Star once telling them it was morbid, but Emily just smirked and said there was an odd beauty about grave yards. They would walk around and try to pronounce the names that they saw and make noises of disbelief at the young ages of some of the dead.