Reality Check by Kirpa Singh

Author:Kirpa Singh [Singh, Kirpa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kirpa Singh

13

April 30th ,2019

The casket was a dark cherrywood with a cream interior. It looked soft and comfortable, which I’m sure Elli would enjoy. At least, I hoped she would since her body would be remaining there for eternity.

I sat at the front of the room, right next to Elli’s mom. Mrs. Martinez was sobbing into her husband’s shoulder. My sister was sitting to my right with her arm around me, but I barely felt its weight. Everything around me was muted. The only sense working at full capacity was my vision; my eyes set on the image of my best friend lying in a coffin. Her face was saturated with heavy makeup. Her skin looked too pale and her lips too red, like a stain around her mouth. Whoever’s job it was to make her look presentable tried too hard and completely missed the essence of Elli.

“Priya.” A soft tap on my shoulder snapped me out of my spiral, and I looked at my sister. “It’s your turn to speak,” she whispered. I looked at the podium, then down at the pieces of paper that were crumpled in my hands.

I never thought I would have to do this, give someone’s eulogy, so soon.

I stood up and walked to the podium on shaky legs. My legs somehow felt like they were made of lead and Jell-O at the same time as I dragged them along. I set the paper down on the wooden block, unfolded it, and flattened it out. I looked at the people in front of me and saw my mom sitting in the seat behind my sister. I saw the faces of Elli’s distant relatives and close friends, including Amanda.

Then I looked to my left.

I saw the vessel that used to be my best friend. The vessel that, now, I could barely recognize as her. I knew it was her body, but without her spirit, it felt like it couldn’t truly be her. I couldn’t believe this body was Elli’s, and deep down, I was battling the belief that she was alive and well somewhere.

I looked at Mrs. and Mr. Martinez, knowing they would want to hear good things about their daughter. Did they want to hear about the times she held me while I cried? The times she was the only person in my life to understand things no one else ever could?

What am I going to do without you, Elli?

My hands trembled on the podium, shaking violently, no matter how hard I clenched them. I tried my best to be strong, to put on a brave face and be the support that someone, I don’t know who, but someone needed. But I was never the strong one. Elli was the strong one. She was the one who was never phased by life. She rolled with the punches. C’est la vie—that was her mantra.

Such is life, Elli… but what is life without you?

The image of her in the coffin felt like a vision in a nightmare.

I couldn’t breathe.

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