Auntie Barbara.
Dressed in the only smart clothes I have. A school jumper a gypsy skirt and some wedges. All black. The skirt has a tear in it and the jumper is fading. My tights are laddered.
We make our way through the grave yard ancient grave stones line the dirt path, they slope and lean heavily at different angles. The icy morning light rests on stone crosses with names of the deceased rubbed almost beyond recognition. She cannot lie here there is no room.
The chapel is old too, hidden amongst graves and shadowed beneath a train track it is a gem. It matches the dates of the earliest gravestones and despite its beauty it too is fading. As the train thunders by over head hurtling a thousand miles an hour the chapel has been slowly eaten away by elements, stones being sculpted smoother, vivid hues weakening. Even in a place where time is so slow it still is heading towards some kind of end.
Inside the chapel its as cold and the air is moist. Serenity seems to echo through the alcoves, alcoves which hide corners in shadow, where angles could conceal themselves and stare forlornly out at the service. Chunk's of light stream through the stainglass windows, now and again a train passes over head breaking the silence with the rumble of journeys.
The coffin is made from a shiny gold wood. I can't look at it, my stomach renches if I even glance at it. I don't like to think of her being in there. Some one so ever-present can't be gone. The coffin is so final, staring it full on is like facing your own gravestone, and considering that fate that all humans eventually meet.
I turn to look down the isle and see my family quietly weeping, passing a packet of Kleanex from my Mothers handbag around. I wasn't crying, I bit back my tears. I gulped back sobs until they settled somewhere and left me with out need for them.
The night before the funeral I had a dream. I was in a bungalow. It was bathed in a orange artificial light. The room we in was filled with objects of a brown and orange color scheme. The tiles on the floor had a complex brown pattern on them. I moved around and felt the warmth, it was warm it was hot it was nice. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed my farther, but all my attension was focused on Auntie. She was standing using a walking frame, suddenly she fell to the floor. Her family (my cousins) surround her but despite the chaos I feel peaceful because some how I knew it was going to happen. I see her face, she is smiling.
There is one small window placed over the sink. What I see when I look out amazes me. Its a place familiar but I have not visited. The landscape is huge and almost flat. The night is large and bright with stars, where the sky meets the ground there glimmers a red hue. If I look upwards the sky is the deepest blue imaginable. These colors in the breath taking sky mix on the ground, vegetation, grass, dirt is purple.
It could be her childhood Africa. Or maybe its the place she always knew she was going to go.
BOOGIE
Smells like teen spirits, mainly cheap vodka.
This year I had three christmases. The first being before the day itself at a sleepover with my friends. Everyone was there with their carefully thought out gifts. The hosts bedroom we discovered was an attic reached by a shakey ladder. I had a big problem with that ladder. The first few climbs I had to trust some carefully selected friends to hold it for me, and not look up my skirt.
The hosts attic is worth the climb up 'the ladder of doom' it is painted blue with fairy lights hung of the beams and a huge hammock suspended from the roof taking up almost all of the room. All of my friends soon arrived. Sam turned the volume up on the stereo and no one bothered to turn it down. Rum was passed around followed by a massive bottle of chardonnay. Chardonnay has a fancy glamorous name, but lets face it, its basically piss with the germs taken out and alcohol added. Finally me and Sam shared a bottle of the precious beer, Budwiser tastes heavenly after rum and piss.
Then there was a call for presents. Which had been left down stairs. Teenagers literally flew down the open hatch. When it was my turn I had to remove my tights incase I might slip on the metal rungs. Making everyone left in the attic turn their backs I slipped of those tights in double quick time.
"You do realize there's a mirror here." Sam called. Automatically I gave a male friend a bollocking, only to realize Sam was laughing her head off, because she was the guilty perve.
Once we where all down stairs we found there was a wood fire in the halth, it was immensly festive darhling. And the fact we where pissed was festive in itself.Presents where handed round, although it took a long time for any of them to be opened. There's something very funny about watching a bunch of drunk teenagers opening Christmas presents. Blundering fingers slowly attempting to pick off layers of sticky tape whilst constanly being distracted whenever anybody makes a comment. Eventually we managed to find our presents, I became quite emotional (partly due to the intake of alcohol) when I saw my gifts. My friends had really thought them out. My friend to the right of me was also getting emotional but not as a result of the present opening. She was thinking of her grandad who had passed away, she told me of her grandads last moments which where very touching and sad. In an attempt to cheer her up I instantly shoved her face in my bosoms and patted her on the back until Sam gave me her famous raised eyebrows look.The rest of the night was spent in the attic, except for frequent trips to the loo. Sam and I where left up there alone because the rest of our group decided to sing Christmas carols. I detest Christmas carols they make me physically sick and although I am coming round to liking Christmas again, I will never sing jingle bells willingly. Instead Sam and I swung on the hammock and screeched distiller songs. Which is a nice alturnative.The rest of the night followed a chaotic blurry coarse after everyone came back up the ladder. They discovered Id drank a bottle of wine to myself, which they where none too pleased about. It didn't matter much, soon all was forgiven and we continued with our celebrations.The next morning wasn't as nice however. When I awoke I noticed several things; I had covered my hosts bed with blood from a splinter in my foot Id earned the night before, the girl next to me had bit me in her sleep and that my mini skirt had revealed a lot to all my friends last night. My friends around me peeled open their eyes and we began to slowly wash and dress ourselves.Goodbyes where said and we flew down the ladder like experts.*
Two chirstmases followed, my family chirstmas and one that arrived in the post, in the form of brown cardboard box that had travelled over seas, from America. . . .
BOOGIE
