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"Sweetheart?" My mother's heartbroken voice cracks my heart in half. I turn to face her.
My poor mother. Her son is gone, and he isn’t coming back. How will she move forward without him?
I can’t help but feel angry at the unfairness of it all. Why did Seth have to die so young? Why do we have to say goodbye to him so soon?
I remember all our time together, laughing, talking, and sharing our hopes and dreams for the future. But now, those dreams will never be realized. They have been cut short, and all that is left is the pain of loss.
I'm still in shock, struggling to come to terms with the fact that he's no longer with us. Despite our fair share of arguments and disagreements over the years, we were always close. But now that he's gone, I realize how much he meant to me.
Everywhere I look, I'm reminded of him. His favorite chair in the living room sits empty, and his favorite novelty mug is still in the cupboard. His clothes are still hanging in the closet, and his football trophies are still on the shelf. It's like he's just gone out for a while and will return soon. But I know that's not the case.
"D-did yo-you know what…" Mom manages to stammer and pauses, closing her eyes. "Which one do you think Seth would like?" she whispers, sliding the brochure of urn choices toward me.
Which one…what?
Are we seriously doing this?
Is this happening?
I look back and forth between my parents, who viewmeas the savior of this fucking decision.
"I don't know, Mom. Maybe I should resurrect Seth and ask him."
The funeral director gasps.
Mom doesn't even flinch. It's as if she was expecting a smart-ass comment from me. Words spew out of my mouth without control when I'm close to the edge.
"Scar, that was uncalled for," my father says. His eyes are full of tears, with sadness and regret on his face, as if the memories of his past mistakes weigh heavily on his mind, and he can’t shake them off, no matter how hard he tries.
"Really, Dad?" I say mockingly. "WhatIdid was uncalled for? What about you? Let's talk about how you fucked Seth's girlfriend is uncalled for!"
"Scar!" Mom gasps with a horrified expression and cries harder.
I cringe.
That was a shitty thing to say in front of Mom. Not only does she have to deal with losing her son, but her husband's betrayal is also still fresh.
"Let’s not talk about that here," Dad says in a quiet voice.
The funeral director clears her throat. "Maybe you should take this outside or save it for another day, perhaps?"
"Fuck you!" I blurt, ignoring the director.
"Scar!" Mom shrieks.
I glance at Mom and point toward Dad. "No! He doesn't get to sit there and pretend his actions didn't affect all of us." I wave my hand in a circular motion between us and then turn back to Dad. "You're the reason Seth is dead! He's dead, and you took him away from me!" I'm ugly sobbing now and frustrated that my father ignites this fire within me. And all I can do is watch the flames of his betrayal burn me from the inside out.
“Scar. Please. This is not helping.” Skylar dares say to me.
“Fuck off.” I snap.
"Scar! That is enough. She is your sister." His words feel like a slap in the face, leaving behind nothing but the essence of misery swirling inside me.
My eyes meet Skylar's gaze, and I feel like my head will explode. She may have tears in her eyes, but there's a glimpse of satisfaction there too, taunting me.
"She's not my sister," I say quietly.
Mom whirls to Dad. "Enough!" she cries. I can see the tension in her shoulders and want to comfort her, but I'm frozen in place, knowing an episode is brewing.
