Be Strong

Aly is in front of me.She’s talking, but I can’t hear what she’s saying.It’s like she’s missing her voice.Her lips are moving, and I really want to hear her.But I can't.

“What do you want?” I ask.

Her lips move faster.And right about now I’m starting to wish I could read lips.I never was very good at it.

And then, as I watch, the ground opens up underneath her and she falls down.Farther and farther and farther into blackness.I reach out to grab her hand, but it’s already too late.I’ve failed to save her.I’ve failed to do anything in time.I’m just a failure in life at general.

My eyes open and my pitch black bedroom comes into view.It’s cold, freezing, and I shiver.It was just a dream.But what a strange dream.I wonder what Aly was trying to tell me.I grab my portable cd player from my nightstand and pop it open, taking out whatever cd was in it.Reluctantly, I roll out of bed and grab a cd from the stacks in the corner of my room.I place it in the cd player and put the headphones over my ears.A heavy bass riff plays through the speakers, and I recognize the song immediately.“I’m So Sick” by Flyleaf.Not a bad song.But not what I’m looking for.I skip to the end of the cd, where I know there are acoustic versions of a few of the songs.I listen to these for a while, letting the lead singer’s voice soothe me into dosing off.

As the last song, “All Around Me”, starts to play, something brings me back into consciousness.It feels like someone is holding my hand.My eyes snap open, but there’s no one there.I must be imagining things.But the next thing I know, my cd player is turning off in the middle of the song.Maybe the batteries are dead.I pick it up and find the play button with my finger.The song starts playing again.Bringing it right up to my face, I squint at the screen, trying to check the battery power.But it’s no use.The darkness is too thick to see through.And I’m too lazy to turn on a light.After a minute or two, as the song is ending, I start to fall asleep again.And as I lie there, half asleep, there’s one final squeeze on my hand.And a really strange thought crosses my mind.What if the hand-thing was Aly?What if she’s, like, a ghost or something?

No, I’m probably just imagining things.And as sleep claims me completely, my brain starts to convince me that it was all a dream.

Sun creeps over my face.Right up to my eyes.I open them and look out the window at the bright sunlight coming through.Thoughts of last night come back to me.Was it just a dream or did it actually happen?I can’t even remember anymore.

I glance at the clock.I should really be getting up soon, if I want to make it to the funeral.But do I really? No.I don’t want to get up.I just want to lie here forever.

I imagine each and every sad memory I have as a piece of string.In my mind, I tie them together to make one long rope.And then I tie the rope around my imaginary neck in a noose and imagine myself hanging from them, all of my bad memories choking me and making me suffocate.Until I die.

But I’m not going to let myself die.Not until I’m a gray-haired old lady with cancer.Only after I’ve led a good life will I die.Only then will I gladly lay down my life and let death take me.But until then, I have a lot to live through, a lot of experiences I want to have, a lot of people I don’t want to leave behind.

I roll myself out of bed, slowly.My head spins a little from getting up too fast, but I close my eyes and wait for the dizziness to pass.And then I walk out of my room and down the stairs.Everyone is already down there, eating breakfast.Pop and Gram are already dressed for the funeral, Pop in a crisp suit and Gram in a long black dress.Mom is still in her pajamas, spooning Special K into her mouth and staring distractedly out the window.They all look up at me as I enter the room.But no one says a word.

I pour myself a bowl of cereal and sit at the table.We all silently eat our breakfast, probably thinking about what’s going to happen today.I know I am.

After I eat, I run upstairs to change into my black dress for the funeral.I put my hair up and try my best to make it look nice, even though I’m too tired to really care.And, get this, I even put on make-up.I know, scary.But I feel like I need to do something special since this is my final goodbye to Aly.She’d be squealing and getting all excited over the fact that I’m wearing make up, if she were here.

When I’m done applying some blush, I take a long look at myself in the mirror.My red hair now has brown roots, and, even though I spent forever fussing with it, it’s still really frizzy.My make-up is nowhere close to perfect, not that I care, and it hasn’t done much to change the tired look in my eyes.I stare at my reflection until Mom knocks on the bathroom door.

“Honey, I need to get in there,” Mom says.“And we’re leaving in five minutes.”

“Okay,” I reply, taking one last look at my reflection.Tearing my eyes away, I open the door and let Mom in.

“You look good,” she remarks as we pass each other in the doorway.

“Thanks,” I say.I glance at her sleek black dress and the pearls around her neck.She tried to make her hair look nice, and I can see that she put on some lipstick.“You too.”

She smiles.“Thanks.”

I grab my final gift for Aly from my room and then I head downstairs to wait.

Everyone meets us at the church.We all sit in the rows of benches, Mom, Pop, Gram, and I in the front.The coffin is already in the front of the room, closed now.All of the pews are packed with people from school, a lot of them people I barely even know.

I start to get nervous as I listen to the priest talk.I’m going to be up there soon, talking in front of all these people.How did I ever do it at the concert?How did I ever get up in front of a whole crowd of people without dying or embarrassing myself?

Eventually, it’s my turn.Mom squeezes my hand, trying to give me some courage.I stand and slide out of the pew and into the aisle.Slowly, I make my way down to the podium in the front.I pull out a piece of paper, with everything I’m supposed to say on it.I can do this.I can do this.I have to.For Aly.

When I arrive at the podium, I take a deep breath, relaxing myself.I glance at all the faces in front of me.Dozens of pairs of eyes are transfixed on my face, waiting for me to speak.I will my voice to work, my eyes looking down at the paper to read the first sentence.

“Aly once told me that people are unpredictable.That you never know how they are going to react to things.”I pause, taking a shaky breath and remembering the advice Aly had given me only a week or two ago.Back then, I had no idea that she would be dead so soon.“She proved that by herself, by committing suicide.Most of you probably don’t know why it is that she did it, why she threw her life away when she was so young.And, honestly, I think her reasons for doing it were completely wrong.Aly and I have had a really complicated life, full of ups and downs that many of you have never faced.And, even through all of those ups and downs, she always seemed fine.She was always smiling and cheerful, full of great advice and a personality that could brighten anyone’s day just by talking to her.Or at least that’s how it seemed.I think that really, while she was smiling, she was really crying on the inside.But she did her best to hide it, so that even me, her own sister, didn’t notice until it was too late.”

The doors open in the back of the church and I see someone walk in.Someone I didn’t think would come.Someone I didn’t want to come.Dad.He closes the door quietly behind him, stepping to the side and leaning against the wall next to it.He stares at me and I suddenly know what I have to do.I pick my eyes up from my piece of paper, no longer needing it.Words are coming to me all on their own.

“You see, Aly and I didn’t always have the best life.We were poor when we were younger, and our parents didn’t always make the right decisions.Both of them were alcoholics at one point or another, and even though they’ve both almost recovered, the disease still left both real and emotional scars on the two of us.Our father had been known to beat us.And, those beatings are what ate away at Aly, until the day she died.”I can feel tears in the back of my throat, threatening to come out.I ignore them, continuing to improvise my own speech.“But, suicide is the wrong way out.It causes so many more problems for your loved ones.So, if you ever feel like taking drugs, or, God forbid, killing yourself, think of Aly.Think of how much damage that did, not only to her, but to everyone she knew.And I hope that after thinking about that, it will give you the courage to keep on living.Because life is so much better than death.”I stop, feeling a million emotions at once washing over me.They burst the dam I had built to stop the tears, and the first drop escapes down my cheek.“Aly, if you’re out there somewhere, know that you will be missed.Thank you.”

I pick up the paper from the speech I was supposed to say and crumple it in my hand as I walk back down the aisle to my seat next to Mom.There are tears in her eyes as she hugs me close to her.

The rest of the funeral I barely even remember.I cry my way through, not listening to any other speakers.The next thing I know, they’re carrying the coffin outside and into the hearse.Mom pulls me into our limo and we head over to the cemetery.Once there, the few of us left over from the funeral stand around Aly’s soon-to-be grave.A priest says a few final prayers, and then everyone lines up to throw in their flower.I wait until the end, after everyone has finished, to make my contribution.I drop the flower onto her coffin, watching it drop right on top of everyone else’s.And then I pull something else out of the small bag I’ve been carrying.It’s Aly’s broken iPod.I stroke the cold metal for a second or two, thinking about how worried I was that she would get really mad at me over it.I drop it carefully in the midst of all the roses.And then I stand there, staring at the grave.This is it, my final goodbye, before she goes in the ground forever.

“Sorry about your iPod,” I whisper.“I hope you’re not mad.But I figured I’d return it.I’ll miss you.But I won’t forget.Never.You can count on that.”

And as the tears start to flow down my cheeks, it starts to rain.Why does it always seem to rain on the day of a funeral?It’s almost as if the sky is crying.And I wonder if maybe, it could be a sign, a last message from the person who died, telling their loved ones that they’ll be missed.

I look up at the sky, letting the rain fall all over my face.And then I take one final look at the coffin, before saying goodbye to Aly forever.