The people all wear black clothes.
Deep black.
The sound of crying on my ears.
Whispered words, some filled with pity, some with sympathy, some with disbelief.
The room isn't that big.
One side is filled with flowers.
They look beautiful.
There are so many of them.
I like them, thought only a bit.
I remember that she loved them.
Someone reaches out to me and pats my shoulder.
"You have my sympathy. But please stay strong.",the man says.
He has brown hair.
The younger brother of my mom.
My uncle.
That's who he is.
The information takes so long to enter my mind.
My brain seems frozen.
I can't respond.
Even thinking of words to form an answer with is way to hard.
He pets my shoulder one last time and takes his leave again, disappearing from my eyes.
I think I nodded as answer just now.
But I'm not sure anymore.
"How could anyone not cry?".
A whisper reaching my ears.
The fragment of a conversation between two older ladys wearing black dresses.
"Cold-blooded guy…"
"…Monster…"
Even more words.
I know they are talking about me.
I can't cry.
Since the beginning not a single tear ran down from my eyes.
If only I was able to cry out loud, like a kid.
Even if it were unsightly it would still be better then the cold emptiness right now.
I let my gaze wander through the room.
Above my head is the wooden ceiling, beneath my feet the wooden floor.
Up ahead is the place were most of the flowers are standing, completely making the wall disappear beneath them.
Before my gaze reaches the middle of the decorated podium infront of the back wall I pull it away hurriedly.
I can't.
I can't look at it.
I know what is standing there.
The white urn beneath the picture in the black frame.
I know, that if I look at it I will break.
But I can't.
Not now at least.
I can't stand the whispers and the flower-decorated wall anymore.
I turn around and leave the room.
I'm not running, but instead walking slowly.
I pass through the opening that doesn't have a door.
Behind is is a short corridor and a big hall.
Some people are sitting on the tables in the hall already, talking.
I don't want to join them.
I leave the building.
At least for a moment I need fresh air.
There is a small garden next to the hall.
I stop there.
I can still hear the crying from the hall and the room.
Stop.
Please.
She wouldn't have wanted this.
She hated it then someone cried.
She always loved laughter.
And music.
Singing.
Memory's storm my mind.
We always sang together.
That's right.
I should sing.
That is what she loved.
I open my lips.
The first few notes can barley be heard, my voice is just to quiet and hoarse, my throat to dry.
But then it starts working out better.
Strong and louder.
My voice finds it way back to it original sound.
Clear notes flying upwards from my lips beneath a clear blue sky.
Gentle notes, wild notes, happy notes.
The rhythm is in my blood, I don't need to think about it.
The notes combine, forming the melody.
The words follow.
They go along with each other and create her favorite song.
A happy one.
One you can dance to.
I seem to be able to see the notes glowing in midair, going round and round, spiraling upward on the ladder which is the melody.
I stand here, singing her favorite song again.
"What do you think you are doing? Have you gone completely insane?", a voice shouts suddenly.
Dad.
I know what is about to happen next, the moment he raises his hand, but I just stand there and continue singing her favorite song.
The hit on my cheek is hard and hurts like a blazing flame.
My voice breaks.
Why?
I don't understand.
"How could you sing on her funeral?", my father shouts.
Why? Why?
She loved this song and singing.
She would be much happier in heaven if everyone sang her favorite song on her funeral instead of just crying.
I don't understand.
My father leaves and goes back in.
I wasn't able to understand what he had continued to say to me.
A drop of water falls on my cheek.
But it's not a tear.
I still can't cry.
I look up as the rain starts pouring down from the grey clouds that had filled the clear sky in mere seconds.
It's cold.
I don't understand anything anymore.
Other people, the world, my family.
There only reemains one thought in my mind.
Why?
WHY?