Unrestrained Dandelions

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

A collection of not-so-important events in our lives.

 

Everything? from the room full of long tables and equipment; the dim lighting; the water droplets that could be heard echoing through the four sides of the walls; her thick black uniform sheltering her from the bleak temperature inside the room; especially, the corpse beside her? everything is common to her aside from a few things. First, today is her birthday; she already ordered a cake three days prior to this auspicious day. Secondly, this woman that she's currently staring at is her 100th customer; she keep count because she don't have anything interesting to do, or perhaps she just loves her job. Lastly, the woman? no, the cadaver in front of her is none other than... the person who brought her into this world; her mother.


The first time she saw a dead body, she trembled and almost puked at her companion. It was a murder case, the girl was sexually assaulted and was minced to pieces. Fortunately, the culprit was caught and would suffer forever in jail. The girl's remains were stitched back together; cleanly and professionally, however, it was still a horrid sight for her. 

Her fifth customer was a child. The scars on the child's face were visible clearly like the sun rays. Abused. She would never forget how thankful she was that her parents were both kind people.

Tales around her workplace began to circulate, it was about a ghost. As her customers are all dead, she immediately felt dreadful. She always believe that supernatural being exists, albeit her appearance and demeanor. 

Going forward to her tenth time seeing a corpse, she was a little bit nervous? thinking that her customer would sat up straight and strangle her. However, she knew it's her job, thus she tried to overcome her fears. At the end, she was successful.

After a couple of dozen of times, there's only one thing in her mind when looking at a cadaver? it's unsightly. The mixture smell of embalming fluid and rusty scent of blood were filthy; the pitiable faces of corpses painting how painful their deaths were; how regrettable it was not to achieve their dreams and happines, finally, how abominable the cause of their dooms were. They were all ugly to her, and as their mortician? she felt that it's her responsibility to make them beautiful. The make-up on her table never stopped as well as her hands. She considered herself as the best mortician at their town? no, the best in the world! 

So what if I'm not a hero of the living? I can be the hero of the dead, so much of acting heroic. She lampooned to herself.

Nothing's going wrong. It was her birthday and the mark of her 100th customer. Perhaps two rights make a wrong, after all. She was beyond frightened upon seeing another corpse, it wasn't similar to any other cadavers that she had seen. It was her mother's. Only after she saw her did her dad contacted her of her mother's death. Heart failure took her mother away, far from home. Forever.

"I? I'll do her make-up." Her companion gazed at her with the same look she gave her customers, or perhaps it was more of a pity before nodding.

"Make her the most stunning woman in the whole world."

She trembled and smiled bitterly.
"I don't think I need to, honestly. Even without my make-up, she's... I think her beauty is enough to be the best in the world."

It was her birthday that day, her mother is her 100th customer. She entered the seemingly normal room? her workplace. Everything is the same as her ordinary day at work that it made her laugh. She sat beside the corpse of her beloved mother and whispered,
"I never thought a dead body could be so beautiful, mother."

Droplets of water could be heard through the four sides of the room, this time, along with her tears. The vivid images of cadavers flashed in her stupor. Starting from the sewed girl and her ninety-ninth customer. In all honesty, they were all lovely. Their expressions of despair, regret, and anger weren't all there is to it. She didn't want to admit, however, she saw it. She knew. All the corpses were in peace. The moment they died, they were grateful; they could escape this painful reality more quickly than the others. No matter the causes of their deaths, they were thankful. They don't need her at all. She don't need to make them look magnificent, because in the first place they already are. 

All she needs to do is to give them company. Just for a moment.


Submitted: October 27, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Falling Sirius. All rights reserved.

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