Chapter Two

Three days passed since that terrible trauma…well it still is one for me as it was now Sunday…the day of the funeral.

On the outside I look cold, but calm and collected, a passer-by would assume that I'm in complete control of myself. Yet, inside I'm a total wreck tearing apart at the seams…hypothetically of course.

It is 'mandatory' for me to attend, that was the Father's exact words. I now have to see his now deceased body and the shock on his face caused by my betrayal. I must also give a speech about him. Personally, I don't believe I have the right anymore…not after what I did. However, I can't afford having anyone's suspicion and being asked questions. Not after knowing what I've done.

I did not prepare the speech as the guilt would cause me to have a breakdown, and I, Emma Tyler do not have breakdowns or show any weaknesses such as crying or mourning…those were for the weak and that is something I couldn't afford to be. Not with Kara depending on me.

To be honest, everything around me reminds me of him and what I've done...Like when I look at the glow-in-the-dark stickers on my bedroom ceiling, it reminds me of the time he bought them for me at six in the morning because I was so insistent upon it. It could be just the littlest of things, but if I'm not careful I could end up crying myself into a mess.

In fact, if it weren't for my pride, yes I admit that's what it is, and Kara; I probably would have broken down a long time ago. I bitterly laugh at the irony of my current situation. Ever since my father has passed away, Kara and I get a long much better; usually it's the parent's influence that keeps siblings from ripping each other's heads off. We constantly look out for each other now, making sure the other one is somewhat okay, and occasionally giving each other company. Obviously, I being the older sister do the most looking out but Kara's done her fair share too.

Gareth? Well, he's been really great to us, he's organised the funeral mostly by himself and has tried to keep as much of a lookout as possible on me and Kara. However, I realise that he, being married and all now, must focus on Lindsey first. She's also been wonderful, she comes around my house and cooks us nice warm meals, seeing as I am incapable of boiling water at the moment. Although usually I am a damn good cook if I do say so myself. Gareth's got his wife and I've got my sister.

That's another reason my younger sibling and I are now close. As for our mother? Ha! Now that's a laugh! She left without a word when Kara was about two. We didn't know her whereabouts until she sent us a wedding invitation…of her wedding, in Michigan. It seems as though she either forgot or didn't acknowledge that she already had a family. Dad didn't seem too shocked though, probably since he signed the divorce papers…but wishing it could have all been a dream…Now that I think about it, she had gone on a lot of 'business trips' the few months before she left. Despite that however, my dad didn't turn to alcohol to drown in misery and nor did he take out his anger on us; instead he strived harder to become an even better parent. I will always love him for that.

That was when I first experienced raw, unadulterated, hate. Even now, I hate, and yes I know hate's a strong word but I mean it, her more than I have hated anyone in my entire life. How can someone just walk out on a family she had been living in for 15 years as if it was nothing? How could she?

Back to the present now and away from reminiscing the past, I am now dressed in long sleeved turtle neck top, a plain, flowing skirt that reaches above my knees and a pair of chunky heeled shoes. All black. I was in the car at the back with Kara and at the front was Gareth and Lindsey; we were on the way to church for the service.

Twenty minutes later, we arrive at our destination; they were also dressed in black as was expected. We decided to visit his body, separately at first and then go together for a final farewell.

The order is from youngest to oldest, so Kara goes first. I see her look inside the coffin and even touch dad's hair; we use to love playing with it, because it was so soft. I also hear her whisper "Daddy, please come back and visit and look at us. Be happy…play with God. God, please tell daddy I love him." She was teary-eyed now.

It is now my turn and slowly, I manage to get my legs to function and move towards where his body lay. I freeze when I see it. The pain, shock and horror of the whole situation suddenly haunt me once again as vivid as ever. My mind is reeling with all the images and thoughts that occurred. How I went against him, his expression when he realised it, the pain in his eyes. I staggered from the explicit and overwhelming emotion I felt.

I can feel the prickling sensation in my eyes and it took me everything I have to snap me out of my broken state. I, Emma Tyler do not cry, Even with Kara in my lap that day after he passed away, I did not let myself fall apart, I had immediately went to look for some takeaway to order, then Gareth had come with Lindsey we talked about anything and everything skittering on any subject that was related to dad.

I now walk away from his body, not wanting to see or feel anymore and stood next to Kara whilst Gareth and Lindsey went together as it was now their turn. A few minutes later, they motion for Kara and me to go to them; it is now the time for a final farewell. I stand at one end holding Kara's hand, who holds Gareth's, who in turn holds Lindsey's. We stand there for a moment, the last time we will ever see him.

I don't quite remember what happens after that, but the next thing I know, I am sitting in the front row whilst the priest gives his speech and says the prayers (and rituals) he has to do. That also flies by me as Gareth has now gone up and started talking, it is probably his speech.

It is at this time, I find myself wishing I prepared something to say. My stomach begins to feel queasy from my nerves. After about five minutes, Gareth comes and sits down. Before the priest can call me up, as this time it's oldest to youngest, I quickly push Kara to get up and go on stage. She along with Gareth, Lindsey and the priest look at me puzzled but thankfully do not say anything. This time I choose to listen to the speech as I am now hoping to get any, even if just a little, ideas from Kara.

She looks around at everyone and I see the panic that is settling in her eyes, she looks at me pleadingly and I give her an encouraging smile. Thankfully, this is enough and so she begins. "Hello, I want to tell you all that my dad is a good guy and I know my teacher will probably say I should use 'was' but I don't think daddy's gone. He's still here but we just can't see him. Just like we can't see God. Although I still pray that he will be happy." For a moment, we all stare at her, shocked. No one in our family believed in God, so we were a bit surprised when she mentioned God. Only our mother, when she was here, was a firm believer in Christianity. We only had the funeral in a church because dad was baptised here and for the sake of tradition.

Seeing the apprehensive glance on Kara's face, probably thinking she said something wrong. I give her a thumbs up sign, which almost causes her to sigh out loud in relief.

I don't know how I managed it. I really don't, but somehow I ended up facing thousands of people with me standing behind a podium. They were all waiting for me to speak, with fingers crossed, I inhale a deep breath, glance at my family, before beginning my speech.

"Hello everybody, first of all I want to thank you all for coming and taking the time out to attend this funeral. It warms my heart to know so many of you knew my father and it is wonderful to know that he was well liked and extremely appreciated." I begin with the formalities, and am thankful to all the years I dedicated to public speaking club, which I not only attended but participated fully in.

"My father was a fantastic, caring, understanding and overall a brilliant man. But to me, he was more than a dad, he was also a mum. Many of you know that she left almost five years ago. This however did not get him down or distance himself from us. When I mean us I mean Gareth, Kara and I. He raised three children himself and didn't complain once."

Without realising how, I spew a long appropriate speech. I mention the little things he has done for me such as waking up in the morning just to make us breakfast or how he dressed up as Santa Claus in Christmas and bought us lots of gifts. I mention the accomplishments he made in his career and I believe my speech is bringing many people to tears, however my voice remains steady throughout and my face remains composed. I finally conclude by saying "I thank you all very much for listening." I step off the podium and join my family once more. I distinctly hear people praise my speech. I really am thankful for devoting myself to debate club as well. My siblings (and in law) gather together in a group hug, and it is at that moment I feel like everything could be alright one day.

That thought however, soon vanishes as I hear a new voice, not one I have heard recently but familiar nevertheless. "That was an amazing speech Emma. Your's was cute too Kara…I'm afraid the plane was delayed and so I didn't have a chance to hear your speech Gareth."

It has been five years now, nearly, and yet I couldn't forget it, I use to dream about it every night, when I had no idea where she was and what happened to her and whether she was okay. It was none other than that heartless bitch whom I totally abhorred. The voice belonged to…my mother.