Chapter 3: Funeral

The next day I woke up, I could hear that horrible sound that my alarm clock had, I don't really know why I had never put a better sound, apparently I was a bit masochistic with my ears. I felt that my body was with new energy so I got out of bed and looked on the floor all that I had spilled yesterday at bedtime and I noticed that my cell phone was upside down, I took it, but it was downloaded so I immediately looked for the charger.

I listened to the sound of oil in Mom's pans, because she was excellent at cooking anything, quite the opposite with me. That was one of the things I'd miss about Mom if I left home, so I looked at myself in my bedroom mirror, combed my hair a bit, and went downstairs.

"Good morning mom! How are you getting up?" I asked. In that sense, since I was little, I had been taught very good manners so it was customary to say hello every time I got up and looked at Mom.

"Well, darling! I'm making breakfast, will you eat?"

"I think I'll look for cookies and milk," I replied.

"Nothing of that. That is not nutritious for you, so you will eat what I am preparing."

I thought it wouldn't be a bad idea so I said yes. I liked that Mom always cared about me, because she made me feel special.

"I'll go outside for while you finish then, just let me know to come back," I said, leaving the kitchen. I sat in a chair that was in the garden, it was made of stone like the table and it was located under an apple tree, by that time it was in its best harvest so I ate one while having breakfast.

A little fruit will go down well on my stomach, I thought. The sun's rays penetrated my skin but at that time they were not so offensive. I observed people exercising on the sidewalks, others walking their pet and others going to work. At that moment I wondered: Why is my life so boring? I have no activities except going to university and going home, if I analyze myself, my social circle was not that big either.

Mom walks over to me with a large tray, she served me on the table.

"You eat it all please,"she exclaimed. I smiled scared because I looked at so much food that I didn't know if I was going to eat it all, it was a great variety of foods so I started eating. Despite not being so hungry for Max, I did my best. I couldn't walk around without any food in my stomach. It was not healthy. When I finished, I went to the kitchen, dumped the rest of the food in a trash can, and washed the plate.

I went up to my room because I had to fix all the mess there was.

Max.

A chill runs through my body when I think of him. Time passed, in that my cell phone rang: it was a message.

From Loren:

Are you going to Max's funeral?

I was a little thoughtful because I did not like going to those things, I avoided being in contact with the suffering of others. I frowned as I questioned myself: Am I going or not?

From Nish:

Yes.

I replied.

I had thought well and I said yes because when I die I would also like people to fire me, even if I didn't have a great friendship with Max but I would keep Loren company.

From Loren:

Okay, you can be ready because at 3:00 pm we will pick you up.

I was a lover of black so it would not be difficult to find a suitable outfit for that occasion. I found a black dress trimmed with sequins around my chest, black moon-shaped hoops, and slightly frosted low shoes.

Mom comes into my room and told me: "You are the most beautiful daughter in this world!" I immediately blushed and thought she was exaggerating, I am sure she sees her son with the eyes of every mother. Although to be honest, my mother had been too affectionate since yesterday. Starting because she made me breakfast and now she was complimenting me. I guess what happened to Max made her come to her senses a bit. "Are you going to your friend's funeral?"

"That's right, but he wasn't my friend, mom, he was just an acquaintance from class and that's it," I answered. When the time came, I heard Loren's car horn honking... or Davis, I don't know.

"Nisha, Loren is looking for you." Mom comes into my room.

"Tell her I'm down," I replied, looking at myself in the mirror. I put my lips in a single line and shook my head. I am a basket case. I went down the stairs a bit quickly and said goodbye to Mom.

"Hi," I greeted them.

"Come on," Loren told me. In the car, Davis and Loren were in the front seats while I was in the middle of the 2 back seats, just like when you go to kindergarten. I noticed that Davis had a somewhat serious face, something like when you are pensive or in a trance state, and it was not for less, his best friend of all life had died; so I didn't want to talk much on the way except a few things with Loren.

When we got to Max's house, where they would do a small ceremony and then take his coffin to a cemetery that was a bit close.

"Nisha, we'll be close to Max's family, will you come?" Loren asks me.

"I'd rather stay here while, then I'll join you," I replied. There was a small log at a considerable distance from Max's house so I sat as everyone arrived, I could see luxury cars and wealthy families entering the place. Max lived in an exclusive residential area and the truth was that the air was quiet.

I heard when through a microphone they called people to stand up, I got up quickly and went to the meeting, but I always kept my distance because most of the people who arrived there did not know them except the students of our section, but he did not speak to all of them either. They gave a little speech, a bit thoughtful; without further ado we headed towards the cemetery. Loren was out of sight of me, but I followed the line of people.

We walked and walked until we arrived, I observed that the cemetery looked very beautiful, there were trees, flowers and very green grass. In such a place even I would like to be buried, I graciously said it in my mind.

We're not kidding, Nisha.

That afternoon the sun had lowered its intensity and there was a great silence, I could hear sobbing, others murmuring, others were talking and I... I was just waiting for that to end to go home. It sounds cruel, I know. Certain people passed by, those closest to Max, such as his parents and companions; each one was giving his speech. Certain flower arrangements adorned the box, as well as trophies.

Wow! This kid was really good at his stuff. Straps held Max's box and they thirsty until they reached the edge of the hole. As it went lower and lower, the crying intensified. People were crying inconsolably, however I was not feeling anything, I felt a bit bad because I think I was the only one who had not shed a tear, but I could not pretend either. Behind me there was a group of teenagers muttering, I turned my neck a little to determine what they were talking about and among so many comments I could distinguish:

"They say it was not suicide, what happens is that the family is trying to handle the matter with discretion." One had said.

What? I swallowed thickly and put my hand to my chest. The first thing I questioned is that if that theory was true, there was a murderer on the loose. But he knew what gossip was like, they said everything that in the end none was true.

A since there would be different theories of what had happened with Max. Time passed and in the middle of the group Loren came out and told me:

"Nisha, are we going?"

"I'll walk to the bus station from here, don't worry," I answered.

People were leaving one by one, until the place was completely alone. For strange reasons I walked to the place where Max's plaque was and it was until then that I felt sad for him; Someone who had money, had fame, was young and talented could not have killed himself, but I did not question it since sometimes all those things do not fill us as a person and perhaps that is why he made that decision.

I leaned over a little, took one of the roses that was inside the many bouquets and placed it on the plate.

"Wherever you are, I hope you get the peace you always wanted," I whispered softly.

Finishing the sentence I got up and raised my face, a gust of wind hitting my face making my dress move. It was at that moment that I heard: Nisha. It was the same voice I had heard the night before, where I thought it was part of a nightmare.

"Nisha" he repeated.

I felt chills creep from my feet to my head, freezing me and bewildered. I could feel that I had no control over my feet, I looked sideways to see if I noticed someone helping me out of the situation I was in, but there was only the grave of Max and me. I took some strength to move my mouth and whispered:

"What do you want?"

"Help me"

It was a whisper that mingled with the sound of the wind. I'm going crazy? I clenched my head and squeezed my eyes shut to try to get that voice away, but then I sat back and opened my eyes. I had heard Max's voice a few times in college so I was much more scared when I compared the voices with his. It couldn't be possible.

"Max?" I questioned more to myself.

"Miss," I heard from afar.

I turned to the north where an old man was with lawn pruners. He walked towards my direction little by little until he reached where I was.

"Miss, you should leave right now since this cemetery will close shortly and it is not good for you to be here alone. If you like, I will accompany you to the main gate."

I didn't know him, but he gave me confidence; at that moment I did not want to be alone, more so because of what I had experienced. I nodded without saying anything, but when we were walking, he was talking to me about things that I did not pay attention to, my mind was thinking about what I had heard, that was Max's voice, right?

Why had I heard that voice and why did he say to help him? I seriously considered going back to my psychologist and even going back to taking my painkillers. I felt like I was going crazy little by little.