Journal Entry #14 - The funeral

February 13th, 2013 - 9:45 Pm

Here's today's corresponding post from Something Sinister:

I didn’t want to go to the funeral, but I did. I didn’t want to talk to the people that would be there, but I did. And I don’t want to write the things which I am about to, but for some reason I feel compelled to out of incredulity and alarm.

This morning I got up feeling as depressed as one can without losing the ability to feel hunger. I went to the kitchen to eat breakfast. I poured myself a bowl of cereal and proceeded to enter the dining room. I did so and nearly dropped my bowl in surprise; my parents were still sitting there eating their own breakfast. I glanced at the clock. It was 7:10. I always sleep late, usually stayed in bed until at least 8:00.

I sat down and ate as quietly as I could, my dad across the table was scowling at the table, or was it his bowl; I couldn’t tell. So suddenly that it gave me whiplash, he looked up at me and asked, “So, are you as unready for this as I am?”

“I'm not ready at all.” I just hate myself for not writing sooner. Why didn’t I? It wasn’t like I had a great deal to do, honestly, I just didn’t do it. I wouldn’t take the time to write to my little cousin until she was about to be kidnapped? How am I supposed to feel?  I didn’t say this, but I wanted to.

I finished eating and put my dishes to be washed. I went over to my chair and stared out the window. I really wasn’t looking at anything, just thinking about what I might do at a funeral. In truth, I had never been to a funeral. I wasn’t sure how to act or if there was some protocol other than wearing black or what.

The clock chimed 9:00; this would be my only chance to try to talk my way out of going. However, my efforts were fruitless. “Your aunt has been hit hard by this, she needs to know that we care enough to come.” Was my dad’s reply. Sometimes I hate having a conscious to make me feel guilty.

I dressed up into my black and red suit and by the time I was done with that, it was time to go. The ride there was boring and uneventful so I’ll spare you that part of the day. The Church service started with a bang. And by bang, I mean Johan Sebastian Bach’s fantasia and fugue in g minor. It was great, and spidery, and rich for a bit. Then it toned down into a sweet, melancholy fugue. (Sorry music geek.)

The service was shorter than I expected it to be, but the sermon was surprisingly more hopeful than the prelude. The last hymn was “Abide with me,” and during it I caught a glimpse of my aunt. Not that I have ever seen her really sad before but, it looked to me like she was less sad than angry.

As the postlude played the whole congregation made its way into the fellow ship hall, which at this point was to act as potluck buffet sort of place. It was, in my opinion, a bit too large for my extended family, as it’s pretty small (my family; not the room).

We all sat down to eat after the pastor said a brief prayer, and my cousin Mathis sat down next to me. Mathis is, or was, Kayle’s older brother. He was really… er… not himself. He looked like either he’d been crying a great deal, or not sleeping well or both.  For the sake of trying not to put any problems into his mind, I asked him what happened before she disappeared. As he began to answer I felt guilty for asking. This is what he said.

[Mathis]: “for a while, she hadn’t been sleeping well, she said that was having bad dreams. My parents kept telling her that they were just dreams and they subsided after a while. *sigh* but at the end of January, she started complaining that someone was outside her *chuckle* window. My dad started sitting with her until she fell asleep at nights, and until she did she would keep pointing and complaining about a man outside. None of us ever saw anything out there. And then one morning, she wasn’t there.”

[Me]: “So, what did the police find?”

[Mathis]: “nothing that they thought they would find, from the forensics, they claim that she opened her window, removed the screen, closed the window from the outside, and reinserted the screen. After which she played on the swing set in the back yard, and then; not even their dogs could find a trail. *sniffle*

After that he started crying. I felt kind of disturbed and I wondered if perhaps there was more to the story, but I didn’t ask. After lunch was finished, we (my nuclear family) took our dishes and went out to the car, and we would have left then if mom hadn’t accidentally forgotten her purse in our pew. I went back into the church and grabbed it. On the way back out I saw in the organ loft, an extremely tall man. I wondered who it was because Mr. Snoew usually plays for everything. I didn’t see who it was as his back was turned to me, and my parents were in a hurry and so I didn’t go check.

The whole rest of the day has been pretty quiet. But I wonder if, and if there is than what, the rest of the story is. 

POSTED BY EDWARD STRAUSEN 

I was there at the funeral. It was sad really. Such a young age for a girl to die at. She sounded like such a sweet heart.

I almost cried actually. If it were my little girl... well, I'd like to not think about that.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking, concerning the man in the loft? Yup. First suspect. Of course, I didn't see anyone there. Yes, I was sitting in the very back of the church when Edward walked in to grab his mother's purse. I watched as he stared at the organ loft, an extremely confused look on his face. Then he walked off.

I'm going to be doing a bit of research.

Until then...

Inspector Kornelson