A/n: Here's an angsty oneshot i've just spent the last hour on. I tend to find writing therapeutic, and my guinea pig actually just died yesterday... :( So of course I had to turn it into a fanfic, right?
Maureen Johnson had never been good at goodbyes.
She, like most people, had trouble dealing with loss.
It was hard, though, being at a funeral for one of your best friends. Especially when that best friend had died young. Very young.
Maureen glanced at Collins, who looked like he could barely contain his anguish. He placed a single rose on Angel's grave, saying goodbye with his eyes. Roger was dealing with Angel's death in his own way. Right after the funeral, he was planning on taking off for Santa Fe, obviously to escape from his own problems.
Mimi kept sneaking little glances at Roger when she thought he wasn't looking. Maureen shook her head at Roger's immaturity. Mimi was probably even more torn up over Angel's death than he was. After all, they had been each others' closest friends. Benny was there with Mimi. Possessively holding onto her arm, he made Maureen sick. He wasn't even there for Angel.
And that left Joanne. The last of their broken group of friends. She couldn't help but notice Joanne's tear-stained face as she gazed mournfully at the casket that held their dear friend.
Maureen wanted so badly to comfort Joanne, but she knew that Joanne probably wouldn't want that right now. They'd broken up, Maureen had acted like a child...
Another tear ran down Joanne's mocha cheek.
Maureen shook her head, trying to focus on something besides Joanne.
Where did Angel go when she died? Maureen couldn't help but wonder. Although nobody liked to mention it, they all knew that Roger, Mimi and Collins would eventually be joining Angel. And what about her? Where did that leave her? And Joanne?
Maureen thought back to a time when loss had occurred in her life. Her first experience with loss, actually.
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Flashback:
Maureen walked briskly through the front door, with Collins trailing slightly behind her.
She dropped her backpack off in the living room and headed straight for the kitchen, not bothering to look behind her.
Collins had been to Maureen's house after school countless times; it was like his second home.
As Maureen pulled some pop-tarts out of the pantry and stuck them in front of Collins, Maureen's mother walked in.
"Hey, kids," she said, grabbing a bottle of water.
"Hi, Mrs. J," Collins said politely.
"Mom," Maureen barely acknowledged. She and her mother weren't exactly close, and the two barely exchanged four sentences each day. Nancy was ashamed of 12-year-old Maureen's rebellious behavior, not to mention her choice of friends.
Of all the seventh-graders in Scarsdale, Maureen had chosen to hang out with the misfits; or "unseemly types," as her mother liked to call them. Her best friends Mark, Roger, Collins, Angel, Mimi and Joanne were all of various ethnic and social backgrounds- at least different from the homogenous population of their small, affluent New York suburb.
"Remember to feed Muffy," her mom called on her way out of the kitchen. Maureen rolled her eyes.
Muffy was her Guinea Pig, whom she'd had since the third grade. He was brown and fluffy, and Maureen loved to sit on her bed and pet Muffy absentmindedly, while she did homework or listened to music.
Maureen grabbed some carrots from the fridge. "Let's give her some of these," she said, leading Collins to her room. "Muffy?" She called, tapping the cage lightly.
Usually, Muffy would squeak endearingly, coming out to the front of the cage, eager for his afternoon treat.
Today, there was silence as Maureen opened the cage. "Hmm." She said. "He must be sleeping."
Maureen lifted up the little plastic castle that Muffy usually laid under, and found him curled up into a little ball.
Maureen poked her. "Muff?"
Still nothing. It was then that she noticed the guinea pig's stiffness. Muffy laid there, cold as ice, and Maureen dropped the castle on the floor.
"Oh my god," She cried. "Oh god, oh god, oh god. No. This isn't happening." She carefully sat down on her bed, putting her head in her hands. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as she felt complete and utter shock course through her.
"Come here, Mo," Collins said softly, pulling her into a hug. "I'm so sorry," he said, knowing how much Maureen had loved Muffy.
Her mother passed by the room. She saw Maureen crying and went inside, the questioning look on Nancy's face not going unnoticed by Collins.
Maureen lifted her head slowly. "Muffy's dead," she said, tears staining her face.
Her mother sighed. "Maureen, I'm sorry. But it's just a guinea pig. No need to get so upset..." She said, walking back into the living room, shaking her head.
Collins shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mo. This is tough."
Maureen didn't reply; she was still in shock. She'd had Muffy since the age of eight. Images flashed before her mind, images of Muffy squeaking and cuddling into her lap. She sighed regretfully, wishing that she'd had the chance to say goodbye.
And where did guinea pigs go after they died, anyway? Did they even go anywhere, or did they just rot in the earth like everyone else?
Twenty minutes later, Maureen stood in the backyard, surrounded by her six best friends.
Collins had quickly called all of them to Maureen's house. She had been really shaken up by Muffy's death. Her mother had wanted to quickly bury him in the backyard, but Maureen wanted to give her a proper funeral.
"Shall we start?" Angel asked, looking around. He stood at the head of their circle, holding in his hands a white sheet of paper that had been quickly scribbled on.
"We gather here today to celebrate the life of Muffy." He said, and Maureen let a tear escape her eye.
She looked down at the lifeless creature in the box in front of her.
Where did Muffy's soul go?
"He was such a wonderful Guinea Pig. He loved to be held and groomed like no other..." Angel continued on, finally coming to an end a few minutes later. He gestured for Maureen to stand at the head of the circle, as Angel took his spot next to Collins.
"Muffy," Maureen said sadly, "I'll miss you so much. I'll always remember you." She sighed. "I'm wrapping you in my favorite t-shirt. It's the one with the rainbow and sparkles. I always knew you were probably gay..." She trailed off, wrapping the cold guinea pig in the shirt.
"And this will keep you warm. Plus, it looks fabulous on you." She sniffed, wiping an eye. Collins took Muffy and lowered her into the ground. Then, all seven of them helped cover up the hole.
Afterward, Maureen sat on the front porch swing, staring into space. Everyone had gone home.
Everyone, that is, except for Joanne. She lingered in the front yard and approached Maureen carefully, coming to a stop right in front of her.
"Can I sit down?" She asked softly. Maureen nodded.
Joanne sat, and a silence permeated the air between them. Finally, Joanne spoke. "My dog died last year."
Maureen turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow.
"At first, it was like the most horrible thing ever. He'd been part of the family since I was two years old." Joanne continued.
"I'm sorry," Maureen said.
Joanne shook her head. "It hurts, bad. I know, Maureen. But I promise that it gets easier with time. It really does."
Maureen slowly nodded. "I know it's stupid, but it was like Muffy was a person, part of the family..."
"I know." Joanne sighed.
Slowly, Maureen scooted closer to Joanne on the swing. Joanne put a tentative arm around Maureen's shoulder, holding her tightly.
Maureen smiled and buried her face into Joanne's chest, as Joanne soothingly ran her fingers through the diva's hair.
After staying in this position for several minutes, Maureen began to feel more relaxed. Her sadness was slipping away quickly, now that her best friend was holding her.
Maureen slowly wriggled out of Joanne's grip, seeing that her friend was sleeping peacefully, her head leaned against the back of the swing. Maureen studied the beautiful face carefully, noticing how peaceful Joanne looked when she slept.
Maureen leaned over slightly and kissed the other girl on the cheek. Maybe it was just her imagination, but when she pulled away, it looked like Joanne's lips had curved into the ghost of a smile. Maureen smiled, settling back into her and falling asleep.
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Flash-forward, Angel's funeral:
Maureen chewed her lip. Joanne had been there for her when things had seemed so bleak.
Even though it was only the death of a Guinea Pig, to her, it was the world.
And Joanne got that.
Now that they were dealing with the death of someone even closer to their hearts, Maureen would be the one to comfort Joanne.
She walked up to her lover, who met her eyes reluctantly. Joanne was crying, and Maureen brought her fingers to the lawyer's cheeks, wiping away the tears.
Joanne covered her mouth with one hand, and Maureen knew that she was suppressing a sob, afraid to break down in public, even if it were only in front of her friends.
Maureen found Joanne's hand, soothingly taking it in hers. She interlaced their fingers, and gave Joanne a look, one that she hoped would be interpreted as apologetic.
Joanne nodded slightly, accepting it with her eyes. After a minute, they both took one last look at Angels coffin, waved goodbye to their friends, and started on the long walk back to Joanne's car, the October leaves crunching beneath their shoes.
Maureen had never been good at goodbyes.
She, like most people, had trouble dealing with loss.
But the slight pressure of Joanne's hand in hers lifted her spirits, giving her hope for the future.
Reviews are always really nice...