Planning the Funeral

"I think the funeral should be on Saturday. If we do it in the middle of the week, people who work may not be able to come. You have to consider what the whole family wants, Tommy.", Jeremie said as he glanced at his slightly younger brother.

"I guess. It just doesn't feel right. Just because you’re 21 now doesn’t mean you should control everything. Mom loved Wednesdays. I can still see her sitting in the old nursery, rocking back and forth in her favorite rocking chair. Staring off into the distance", Tommy says as he looks at his younger sister sitting in the corner of the room silently. She quietly hums to herself while rocking back and forth, her thirteen-year-old body curled into a ball.

"Well you're right about her favorite day, but I believe family meant more to her than a day of the week. We should try to accommodate family. That's what matters the most at the moment.", he says as Sarah continues her blank-faced humming.

"You're right. Saturday allows for more people to come. But we both know, he still won't be here. All these years, and if mom were alive she’d still be waiting for him to come back. After all he had put her through, not once did she pay him back. Watching him take trips around the world with other women. He has no respect. Let her die waiting for a phone call that was never gonna come. That fucking asshole!"

"Stop talking about Pops like that in front of Sarah. You know how she reacts."

"Well, I'm sorry for finally being honest about that piece of shit we got stuck with as a father. I'm sorry I'm the only person in the room willing to face reality."

"Daddy loves us. He loves us. He loves us all," Sarah whispers and then returns to rocking in the corner, twirling her finger through her honey-brown locks.

"You're right, Sarah. He does love us, but that still doesn't make him a good person. Mom never stood a chance of being happy with him in her life. I just wish she could've seen that. Now it's too late."

"Daddy loves us", The 13 -year-old whispers once again as she turns herself to face the corner, cutting herself off from the others. She returns to her rocking.

"Look man, neither one of us wants to talk about this right now, so just leave it alone."

"Of course you don't. You were always his favorite. Why would you want to hear anything bad about the man? And all he ever did was treat Sarah like a princess while he treated me and mom like nothing! Do you not remember the time he tried to shoot me?", Tommy yelled as he turned to leave the room. "Let go of me, Jeremie! Quit acting like him! You don’t have to use aggression all of the time."

"That's it.", Sarah faintly whispers to herself as she watches her brothers struggle. Slowly picking herself up, she heads towards the room down the hall that she isn't allowed to play in. She places her hands flat against the door, and after a slow, deep breath allows herself to grab the doorknob. Carefully pushing the door open without causing a sound, she heads towards the gun on the wall. She lets out a sigh of relief, realizing she's finally tall enough to reach it. After carefully taking it down, she opens the drawer next to her mom's favorite chair that holds the ammunition. "Daddy loves us", she thought to herself. Daddy would want her to load the gun, so she did. Daddy would be so proud of her for standing up for him. She makes her way back to the room where her brothers stand, still fighting.

“Well, I wish he would’ve shot you! At least then I wouldn’t have to put up with your constant complaining.”

“You could always leave. You could've left a long time ago but you're lazy. I swear the day I turn 18, I'm out of this hell hole.”

Each remained oblivious to the fact that their younger sister held the gun that would take their lives. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Two shots aimed at their heads, one at each of their chests. The floor shakes beneath her as they both collapse. One still breathing. Boom. He doesn't breathe anymore. Sarah lays the gun down and returns to rocking in the corner. "I love you daddy", she quietly whispers to the wall as she begins to hum her dead mother’s favorite song.