Hoping she was 1) awake and 2) not freaked out about last night, I knocked on her gently ever so gently and waited a second. I heard rustling and then a few seconds later Cassie opened her door and instantly turned beat red when she realized it was me. She tried to close the door but I caught it with my foot and said “May I come in so we can talk about last night please?” She just nodded, looked down and let me in, sitting on her bed. I didn’t know how or what to say so I just came out with it. “I’m so sorry about last night! I should’ve turned on the lights and closed the door, not leave it open and not give a signal I was in there. I’m sorry I just stood there as well, I was just startled and all. Can we just forget this ever happened?” She looked up at me with this odd look of confusion, sadness, and defiance almost. “No.” she said. “Huh?” I asked, taken aback by her straightforward answer. “No, I will not forget last night. It was the first time I’ve seen a mans…” She blushed. Where had he gone? Where was his cold, empty wake? The Girl watched as the strangers stood at the front of the church and talked about a good man. A peacemaker. The congregation nodded in agreement, the Girl fought vomit. He was taken too soon, they said, One more angel called to heaven. She tried, but she could not be sad. The wake was enormous and the Girl did not have the energy for it. It was full of people who had pretended to like her for years and she was not in the mood to pretend to like them – especially not as they shared their happy memories of the Man. She wondered, as she rifled through the cloakroom for her coat, if she had any happy memories to share. Every argument your Mother and I have ever had is about you, said the voice. Your Father doesn’t care. There was the rank taste of soap in her mouth after she had repeated a dirty word, from his nephew. There was her hamster lying bloodied in his ball after it had been kicked across the garden. And there was her china.
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