I’m Still Here

by Rose Sheehan, Campbell High School

Dark clouds swirl, an ominous threat to the sapphire sky as a recurring icy breeze ruffles the hair of passersby, the chill ever pressing against luxurious down coats. A procession of dark clothed men and women move towards the ancient, decrepit, graveyard. Young children still smile and laugh, somehow oblivious to the desolation and torment their families are sharing with the world.

Rain starts to drip, slow and freezing, crows perched in the trees above. Here hope does not exist. I watch, leaning against an archaic oak as they enter, my family leading the cortege. A raindrop drips down my neck, but I can’t feel it; I can’t feel anything anymore.

The graveyard has a dead beauty that entombs it, something resembling a spiritual connection. When I was younger, it seemed mystical, arcane. Now, I can feel the weight of a thousand lost souls, all of them watching as the convoy slowly moves toward a gaping hole. I don’t want to watch this, but somehow, I can’t turn away.

A hearse passes through the gates and I can see a mahogany coffin through the tinted windows. It’s truly horrendous, but it’s not like I can change any of that now. Two men step out and move to either side of the car, waiting for their moment to finalise my death. Then I see my brother as he steps up to the side of the dank pit that will be my new home.

I can see the tears that are threatening to spill over, but somehow, he remains composed. I step forward, melting into the crowd as he begins to speak. The poem is familiar to me, Ashes to Ashes; I used to read it whenever the pain became too much for me.

From ashes to ashes, from dust to dust.

You’ll rise again in this I trust.

I can see my two closest friends, holding each other and crying silently. We always promised each other that we’d live forever.

You’re in our hearts, ‘til the end.

We will meet again, depart my friend.

My beautiful, broken, girlfriend, clutching a white rose as she listens, eyes half-closed. We were going to move away next year, just the two of us.

You may be gone, but I know you’re near.

In my heart, I hold you dear.

My cousins, holding hands as they watch the coffin slowly sink into the ground. I wish we had never fought; a final goodbye was never an option.

My only hope, in peace you’ll rest.

I still miss you, I bet you guessed.

My grandparents, whom I never once came into conflict with, were probably the only people I’d ever let hug me.

I’ll see you soon, it’s a must.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

My parents, the last faces I ever saw, gently whispering to each other. I catch one sentence whispered by my mother.

“I’d give anything to have her back.”

I’m here, Mum.

I’m here but you can’t see me.