Chapter 14 Goodbye
GOODBYE
RAE
The day I’d dreaded for two weeks arrived with a flurry of Patricia’s complaints.
From four in the morning until I left the house, my phone rang nonstop.
The calls only stopped because I turned my phone off.
I couldn’t handle Patricia’s unrelenting rants about Grandma’s death and funeral inconveniencing her.
I didn’t realize the depth of Patricia’s hatred for Grandma until now, and it made me sick to my stomach. Though maybe I should’ve seen it sooner. Patricia always resented Mom’s bond with Grandma—crying favoritism since Patricia was adopted and Mom wasn’t.
Zeke wanted to go with me so I wouldn’t be alone, but I needed the drive in silence to get my head straight.
The guys’ thorough invasion of my home left me with little time to process my grief. Part of me welcomed their distraction, but another part knew I needed to face my feelings.
I didn’t know what they did while I was at work or what progress—if any—they’d made toward getting home. I didn’t ask, and they didn’t offer.
“Raelynn,” Patricia snapped.
I looked away from Tim’s brand-new town car that he probably purchased with money from Grandma’s estate as the pastor motioned for everyone to gather at the spot where I’d say my last goodbye.
Patricia stooped to whisper-yell at me as we walked. “Stop daydreaming and don’t embarrass me. And fix your dress, it’s too short.”
I glanced down at my knee-length black dress as we took our places closest to the casket, accepting the simple red roses from the pastor’s wife. I couldn’t muster the energy to argue.
The only person left alive who gave a damn about me now lay cold and lifeless in a box.
Was it normal to feel completely alone in the world even when standing surrounded by family?
Grandma was the only person who truly saw what lay beneath the mask I showed the world.
The dark, soul-crushing reality that no one would ever love me or be there for me like Grandma hit me like a ton of bricks as I stood before the plain casket.
I knew the pine casket had to be the cheapest option.
Patricia and Tim would never spend extra on something that would be underground in less than an hour.
Forcing back the whimper rising in my throat, my lower lip trembled as silent tears streamed down my face.
Patricia leaned down close to my ear. “Dry your face. It’s unbecoming of a lady to blubber like a child,” she whispered, offering a soft tissue.
Pretending not to hear her, I tightened my grip on the rose.
Not today.
I wouldn’t let Patricia’s critical words pull my strings like a puppet. I refused to be a doll—stiffly posed and perpetually unruffled, a perfect imitation of her controlled demeanor. That wasn’t living.
A soft tsk came from beside me as Patricia straightened and balled the tissue in her hand. She clasped one hand over her wrist, returning to her stoic vigil over the funeral proceedings.
The pastor’s words sounded more like a church service, warning of the dangers of hellfire and eternal damnation. Instead of revering the life Grandma lived and lost, he equated mental illness and dementia with demonic manipulation. It made me furious.
I took a slow, deliberate breath, tuning out the sermon in favor of watching the pair of cardinals perched on a nearby headstone. My gaze moved from the birds to a man standing at a grave with his head lowered, hands in his pockets.
Though the man himself wasn’t remarkable, the five figures looming in a semicircle at his back grabbed my attention.
I knew they weren’t human without seeing their faces.
Each figure in tattered black garments kept its head down, almost as if paying respect alongside him.
As if aware of my scrutiny, one figure on the end raised its head and glanced in my direction.
It took considerable effort not to gasp when I saw the figure’s broken face and large mouth stretched unnaturally ear-to-ear, blood staining the split.
Long, tangled hair obscured many of its features, which made me wary of what existed beneath.
I looked down, returning my attention to the casket as a woman from Grandma’s senior group took the podium.
After several minutes, the surrounding air chilled, dread settling heavy in my heart.
I closed my eyes, knowing the figure was now closer.
“Raelynn, listen,” Patricia said, nudging my arm. “I don’t want to be here either, but you don’t see me dozing off.”
I hated her tone—hated she thought I could be so callous. She was right, though. I didn’t want to be here. I wanted Grandma alive, but I owed it to Grandma to come and say goodbye.
Bracing myself, I drew a deep breath and opened my eyes to find the figure hovering before Grandma’s casket—silent and observing.
The figure craned its head at an unnatural angle when my gaze locked on the black voids where its eyes should be. Its neck jerked with unsettling, marionette-like movements.
I released my breath, slow and steady, to quell my panic.
As if amused by my attempt at control, the figure’s mutilated face split into a grin, revealing a wide mouth full of jagged, serrated teeth stained with blood and decay. Blackened gums that matched the stains around its mouth hinted at rot and death.
When the figure lifted its gnarled hand to reach for me with jerky and unnatural movements, I panted, fear gripping my chest.
“Ananeva…”
The foreign word echoed around me, a harsh whisper drowning out the pastor.
The figure’s bloodstained grin stretched further as it closed the gap between us, its body swaying as if controlled by invisible strings. Its unkempt hair swayed when a gust of wind passed beneath the canopy tent used to shade the burial site.
Freezing, it tilted its head back, scenting the air—which seemed odd considering it lacked a nose.
I almost yelped when the figure wrenched and twisted, as if pulled by an unseen force. Its body trembled, its gaze locking on something beyond the cars lining the graveyard’s drive.
Jerking to face my direction again, the figure angled its head back and screeched, its mouth gaping wide, revealing its decayed tongue covered in a tar-like substance.
I winced, resisting the urge to cover my ears and draw the attention of those around me.
The echoing whisper before became a wail as the figure once again reached for me. “Ananeva!”
The oppressive air grew suffocating until the figure halted mere inches from my face.