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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/campfires/item_id/2071500-Funeral-song
Rated: E · Campfire Creative · Short Story · Dark · #2071500
Girls' friendship gets a horrible twist when one of them dies.
[Introduction]
It was autumn. It was kind of green, kind of orange outside. Kind of grey too. There were three girls, who were friends together but it all turned out to be a nightmare. One of them died.

It was supposed to be the funeral day of her. All the friends and family were wearing black. The two friends were at the dead girl's apartment, trying desperately to collect and choose some of her belongings to take out as memories. It was like she would come home any minute – there was still fresh raw chocolate cake in the fridge; the vinyl player she owned seemed like someone had used it a while ago; small, framed photographs of her with her friends reminded of her cheerful kind that would no longer exist.

The family was already at the funeral, all in black, in silence. Waiting for the girls to arrive... Waiting for the girls to arrive so that the day could be over.

The girls spoke quietly, as if something would hear them.
”It's too awful, I can't do this. It's so fresh here, it's like she left it this way the same morning. It all reminds too much of the living her”. The other one mumbled.
”I know. I don't see no dust and it feels like the vinyl could play our song any moment and she would come from the door with a joyous smile on her face”.
”How did you get in?”

It was like the time had stopped. The time seemed to oddly change as if they had been transferred to another universe. They looked at each other; did you hear what I heard? They both became pale. Like someone would've kick them right on stomache so that all the air comes out. Like blood would've stopped moving in the veins.
”We... we.... opened the door... with... Who is this?”
And the laugh they so deeply were being missing filled the air. Still, they wished they would've not heard it.

”What do you mean? I don't get what's wrong with you girls today. You are both acting weird. I made a raw cake yesterday, would you like to taste?”
And then the girls saw her, too. She was her own self, only a little hallow. She could move her face threehundred and sixty degrees around without a problem. She could laugh and literally fill the air with her not-so-cheerful, more like horrondous voice.

The girls remained silent. In seconds they realised it was all real. The funeral was about to begin and the main star of the party was eating a cake in her own apartment, laughing like no tomorrow. The day started to seem more gray moment by moment, or maybe it was in the girls' heads.

”Hey, we should get going. We have stuff to do... All of us, together”. The other girl thought taking her to her own funeral would signify... something. They all got theirselves to the staircase, about to go down and out. Confusion led the girls to take acts they would have never imagined to take.

Suddenly she started to scream; ”I'm not going back!” And her head was twisting to multiple directions. Her body seemed to fight against an unvisible force and she started to look aggressive – hew own self was not able to be seen anymore.

After all, the funeral never held.

And as the day turned all black, so came all the joyous souls to dance to their songs.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/campfires/item_id/2071500-Funeral-song