Chapter seven

Not Just One Funeral…

Emilette was waiting on the couch when Genevieve walked in. She was crying. Genevieve ran in and hugged her. “Tomorrow’s my birthday. I'm so scared!” She sobbed. “I'm jumping at every corner, and…” Genevieve nodded sympathetically.

“Stay here.” Genevieve said automatically.

“No.” Emilette shook her head. “I’ll slip on a stair, or start coughing up blood, or something.” Genevieve cried as loudly as her friend. “I just came to hope for some luck. That maybe it’s all a fairytale or a dream. And tomorrow I’ll wake up.” Genevieve nodded, even though she knew something was going to go wrong. She could feel it in her soul, somewhere deep inside her, she knewsomething was about to go wrong

“It’ll be OK,” she promised her friend, but was trying so hard to console Emilette, hoping that Emilette might believe her, but Genevieve knew there was no fighting a curse. Something in the back of her mind told her it was no use. Genevieve waited until Emilette’s tears subsided. The look of hope on her friend’s face sent spasms of pain through Genevieve’s mind.

*​*​*

Emilette left Genevieve’s house, still feeling doubtful, no matter the face she put on for Genevieve. Her mind cleared, however, the second she came within sight of her house, when she saw Kyle’s car waiting outside of her house. She quickened her pace. Kyle’s face lit up when she knocked on his window. He unlocked the doors, and Emilette climbed into the passenger seat.

They rode in silence. Emilette hadn’t told Kyle about the curse, so she tried to keep her face from betraying her feelings.

“So where are we going?” Emilette asked.

“The park,” Kyle answered. He pulled next to the curb, opened his door, and came around to Emilette’s side. He opened her door grandly, and Emilette found herself in a park decorated with twinkling white Christmas lights that gave the whole thing an air of romance. He leaned into the car, and soft romantic music played from the speakers. Kyle pulled a blanket out of the trunk and laid it out. Emilette sat down. Kyle sat beside her, setting down the picnic basket he had pulled out after the blanket between them.

Kyle leaned over and kissed Emilette gently on the cheek. Emilette blushed. Her first kiss…it was amazing. Emilette nuzzled Kyle’s neck playfully. He leaned over and pulled out the food he had packed. A ham-and cheese and sandwich with mayonnaise for himself, a roast beef and turkey sub for Emilette, and a bag of potato chips, and another of pretzels. He followed this with a bottle of cranberry juice. “Sorry, no wine,” he laughed, and poured two glasses, handing one to Emilette as they clinked their glasses. Emilette smiled, forgetting the curse for one moment, drinking the sweet juice as it ran down her throat. She took a small bite out of her sandwich, then, reaching over Kyle, took a handful of the crunchy chips, and, laughing, poked a pretzel through Kyle’s open mouth. “Not what I was hoping for,” he joked, “but it’s delicious.”

Emilette rewarded his humor with a brief kiss. Soon Kyle was leaning over; their meals forgotten, as Kyle’s lips found hers again and it lasted longer, as if it were only the two of them under the stars. He grabbed her around the waist, and Emilette moved closer to him. She knew she loved him, and that this was the only boy she ever wanted. She felt deliriously happy as Kyle covered her mouth with his, and she enjoyed the lasting kiss. He tasted sweet, and smelled of the cologne she loved on him. It was like dark chocolate, his breath. Sweet, with an air of something forbidden to her.Someone so much higher socially than her, and yet, here they were, under the stars, in the most romantic way in the world to her. Kyle finally pulled away and looked at Emilette’s face for clues. “I love you.” He said. “I love you so much it hurts.” Emilette responded, leaning her head on Kyle’s shoulder. Kyle kissed her, his light touch a reminder of how much Emilette wanted to kiss him again. “Your eyes sparkle like the stars above us. Dark pools of chocolate.” Kyle said, whispering.

Emilette looked at Kyle. “And you, there’s nothing I would change. These lights, everything is beautiful.” Emilette said.

“I'm distracted by more lovely sights.” Kyle responded, looking into her eyes, wanting to get lost again in her sweet heart shaped lips, as if her face wanted to betray to the world that she was open to love.

“I wish I could drive, so that I could take you on trips like this.” Emilette sighed. Kyle took out his keys.

“Take it out for a spin. No one’s around.” Emilette sighed and got up. Still in a trance, she started the ignition. She couldn't believe it. She was in love. She turned the car onto the street. Kyle watched as she turned the corner. That was the last time he saw her alive.

The squeal of the tires was loud. Emilette felt herself lose control. She suddenly was looking down at a ravine. The ravine was deep. It seemed like forever until the car stopped turning over and over. Time seemed to stretch into infinity. Everything was in slow-motion, as if swimming under water, or in a dream, as if everything was blocked by a heavy cloud. Emilette struggled against the seatbelt, against the crushing weight of the car. She finally sat back, giving in. She waited until the air ran out, until she was numb.Finally, she thought, peace. She let the darkness take over her, Kyle’s face the last thing she saw. She distantly heard Kyle’s voice. “Don’t die! They’re coming! I love you, Em! Don’t….” The rest was lost to the fog in her mind, the red seeping into her vision.

“Love…you….Ky…” She murmured.

*​*​*

Genevieve was doing her Psychology homework when her phone rang. It was Nicholas. Genevieve laughed as she answered the phone; “hello?”

“It’s Emilette. She’s dead.” Nicholas said. Genevieve stopped laughing abruptly, feeling involuntary tears prickling behind her eyes. She clicked the phone shut, praying it wasn’t true. The house phone rang soon after. Emilette’s parents had called to ask Genevieve to come to the hospital, shattering any hope Genevieve had of it being a nightmare. Without bothering with telling her mother, Genevieve hurriedly put on her coat and walked the six blocks by herself in the cold winter air, wondering how, on such a beautiful night, how her friend, as lovely as the night under which she was walking, could have died on a night like this. The curse was real. Genevieve had hoped it wouldn’t be. Em had been so close to home, and yet, the curse had been there, waiting to come true, right on schedule. Genevieve let a fresh batch of tears overwhelm her as she walked into the emergency room. Emilette’s parents, as close to Gen as Genevieve’s own, rushed forward and hugged her. Behind them was Kyle, who had arrived with the ambulance. He told Genevieve what happened.

“How?” She asked.

“I don’t know,” Kyle said, looking close to tears. “I heard the tires squeal as she went around the corner, then I heard a crash. I ran over, and the car was at the bottom of the ravine. I called the ambulance, her parents, then I called Nick. Told him to call you.” A police officer came over to where they were all standing in a tearful huddle.

“The car turned over six times. She would have died from head trauma, we believe.”

“Her face was so covered in blood,” Kyle murmured, “out of her mouth and eyes…” Kyle looked like he wanted to cry again.

“Not your fault son. She took the keys.” The police officer said soothingly. “The air bags deployed. All the physical abuse by the car, and eventually the crushing weight of it turned over on her, caused her death.” It didn't escape the tearful groups' notice that the officer neglected to mention whether she died instantly. The thought that she was in pain when she died brought Genevieve to tears again.

A doctor came and joined their sad little group. “I'm sorry. There was nothing we could do. But you’re welcome to go see her.” Kyle and Genevieve led the mad rush through the doors of Emilette’s room, where Emilette was lying still, as if she was just asleep.

Genevieve kneeled by her friend’s bed. “No!” she cried. “You’re NOT dead, Em! Come back, now. Wake UP!” Genevieve yelled, as a hand landed heavily on her shoulder.

“She’s gone, Gen.” Nick’s deep voice came from behind her. Genevieve turned around, and leaned against his leg, sobbing as the tears came out willingly, like a dam being opened.

“She can’t be gone.” She said softly. Emilette’s father, who, to Genevieve, had always been so strong about everything, broke down when he laid eyes on his daughter.

“Sweetie, it’s ok.” He said to Genevieve, or maybe to his daughter, no one could tell.

“She’s gone, Gen.” Emilette’s father said quietly, turning toward the girl he had always considered his other daughter, unable to say anything that hadn't been said before.

Emilette’s mother laid a hand on her daughter’s pale, cold hands. She was weeping quietly as Genevieve’s parents walked through the door. Genevieve’s mother couldn’t stand Genevieve’s father, but they both came over and stiffly hugged their daughter. “I'm sorry sweetheart. I know you were close to her.” Genevieve’s father said.

“She never should of left our house!” cried Genevieve. “I shouldn’t of let her leave!”

Emilette’s father laid a hand on Genevieve’s shoulder. “Gen, you were like our daughter. Anything you want, or need…from Emilette, or us…” Gen nodded appreciatively. Genevieve’s mother was comforting Emilette’s.

Kyle was by the window, murmuring about how if he had never shown up that things wouldn’t have happened. He walked over and stood over Emilette’s pale form. “I'm sorry, Emmy.” He said. “It’s my fault. You shouldn’t have died tonight. If not for me, you’d still be alive.” He broke down crying then, and Nick comforted his best friend, leaving Genevieve to her father.

*​*​*

Genevieve finally allowed herself to be led out by Nicholas. He hugged her goodbye and left her at the bank of elevators. Her parents, Emilette’s father, and, to Genevieve's disgust, Kyle, had left hours ago. Genevieve and Emilette’s mother sat and consoled each other. They were taking Em down to the morgue in the morning, so Emilette’s mother was staying by her daughter, an all night vigil. “Mija,” she said, grabbing Genevieve’s wrist.

“He’s a good boy. I don’t blame him. Tell Kyle.” Genevieve nodded, walking out of the room with tears stinging the back of her eyes. She hadn’t stopped crying all day.

*​*​*

The funeral was short in coming. Nick, Genevieve, Kyle, and Emilette’s parents were there. Genevieve’s parents came, as did Kyle's and Nick’s.

Everyone in black, it was raining, as if even the heavens wept the end of Emilette's wonderful life. and there seemed to be a shadow from more than the clouds. The priest said a few words, and Emilette was laid to rest, as everyone bawled. Genevieve thought of following the coffin, rather than live without her best friend. But she knew Emilette would never approve. She’d want Gen to be strong. So Genevieve stood rigidly by, feeling the tears stream down her face as her best friend was buried under the earth. “She’ll like it, sleeping under the stars.” Emilette’s father said.

“Her eyes were always at their most lovely then,” Kyle added. Nick nodded, and Genevieve broke down, crying loudly. Emilette’sfather led her from the service.

“She was my best friend. That’s all anyone should know,” Genevieve cried insistently to Emilette's father. The man, seeming aged by years in just a few days, nodded.

"No one will ever negate that, sweetheart. You saw her that night. You were there for her." Everyone followed Genevieve from the graveyard, leaving the diggers to their work. But life wouldn’t be the same, and they all knew it. Something would always be missing.

“Emilette was something special,” Nick said, summing up everyone’s

feelings as he stood in front of the group, the first to speak. Everyone made some form of non-committal sound, but no one could say anything. "she wouldn't want us to weep." He continued, looking at Genevieve. "She would want us to live. To smile, to celebrate her life." Nick said, stepping over to Genevieve and taking her hand. Emilette’s mother broke down openly, and Emilette’s father sped away. Genevieve watched as her mother comforted Emilette’s. Genevieve got quietly into the car, and let the car take her away from the only person she’d ever known as a best friend, the person who cared and changed Gen’s whole life. Genevieve wished she had words she could say, but her tears spoke volumes. Even Emilette, watching somewhere, knew that.

*​*​*

The next day Genevieve awoke to sirens. Nick had left three messages on Genevieve’s phone. Kyle’s body had been found at the ravine. Covered by the trees, he had sat in the exact same spot, where the wreckage hadn’t yet been cleaned from Emilette’s fatal crash, and cut his wrists with his dad’s hunting knife. Nick sounded broken, like he was crying. According to the police, his body had been badly damaged, his veins cut deep. He’d been grasping a photo of Emilette and on the back had written “I won’t live without you.”The pool of blood stained the brightly lit fall leaves in a dark ruby liquid that had drained from Kyle and ended his life. Nick said that they had already taken him to the morgue, that he was dead on arrival at the hospital. His parents had asked to have him laid next to Emilette. Emilette’s parents had agreed.

The days seem to pass slowly, even slower than the days thathad passed between Emilette's death and burial. This time, at least, they had confirmation that he died the way he wanted to, and that the pain was short. The funeral was three days after his death, and Genevieve, as Nick had done for her, was there for Nick every day of his grief.

Doing her due duty, Genevieve went to the graveside with Nicholas, as Nick had done for her. It hurt her to picture Kyle so destroyed, and to be back at her friend’s grave so soon brought forth a fresh batch of tears. Genevieve and Nick sat together and cried.

At the graveside, everyone cried. There were fewer people, smaller than Emilette’s. Emilette's parents found themselves too upset to go. "I can't go back to her grave. Not so soon." Emilette's father had said. Genevieve's parents had to work, and, they said, wanted to support her, but couldn't bring themselves to deal with another death. “What if the next one,” Genevieve’s mother had asked, “Is you?”

“Too much young blood shed,” Kyle’s father said, at the end of the service. This time there was no brave speech, just unspoken pain. Nick broke down sobbing, and Genevieve held him.

“At least,” she consoled him, “you didn’t have to see his body.” 

Nick nodded and left his friend’s side, but he was hurting. He tried to show no tears, because, Kyle always said, “that’s not how real men do it.”

Remembering these words gave Nicholas strength. He put his head up. He couldn’t believe that Kyle had died exactly where Emilette had just a few days before. Genevieve had told him Emilette didn’t believe in self-pity. He knew Emilette would never want Kyle to die for her. And yet, he had. Nick knew he’d do that for Genny, but imagining what it must have looked like, how that must of felt…Nick couldn’t fathom it. Nick was haunted by the fight between him and his friend, all the questions that would never be answered. He was sure to be there when the tombstone was laid a few days later, hoping to somehow find Kyle’s spirit.