Thanks for the reviews and sorry this is soooooo entirely late! Wow, it's actually almost been a year LOL. To be honest, I think I completely forgot I was in the middle of a story. That's not unusual for me though, as I can hardly remember breakfast and lunch from earlier this morning. Sorry it's so short, but this will just be a filler until I can fully collect my thoughts and re-decide where I'm going with this. If you're still reading, I really appreciate it, and enjoy!

I was the first to arrive at the funeral home. Dumb, dumber, and the spawns of stupidity trailed close behind though, I will admit. I parked my SUV up front, entirely in NO mood for a distant or seemingly distant walk from the car to the building.

I went in before the others, needing just a few minutes with my mother alone to gather my thoughts. In times like these, the dead can be peaceful, spiritual, and even inspirational if you look at it from some twisted point of view.

I walked over to my mother's casket, my shoulder length brown hair falling annoyingly to the side; my mother always loved my hair like that, though. Matter a factly, she loved everything about me, which in previous years seemed to bother me horribly. Now though, it all seemed to medial. A gently stroked her hand with my fingers, stifling ten minutes worth of coughing- after all, that would totally take away from the 'moment' I was sharing with my mother.

"I'm gunna miss you mom. Life's definitely not normal without your bubbly self around to twist things up." I told her. A part of me couldn't help but be mad, though. How could she do this to me? How could she die? How could she stop fighting? And, I spoke aloud now, "What the hell were you thinking leaving custody of me to Captain Crunch, Betty Crocker/Mother Teresa, and Alvin and his Chipmunk? Was I that mean to you?! Now seriously mother, you couldn't have been more lucid when you were deciding this?!"

I find, in times like these, if you have any last words it's best to just get it out while you still can. The soul learns a lesson that there's no time like the present, so if you have bone to pick, pick it. After all, the bone may be 6 ft under the ground next time you see it.

I held back the vast majority of my tears (knowing full heartedly I'd forgotten to put on waterproof mascara; the dumbness must be either hereditary or contagious… I hope contagious though, or my future kids are in for a hell of a life), and let the rest of my mother's friends and family in the two big doors which separated me from peace and uproar. Let the games begin.

……….. …………… ………………. ………….. …………… …………. ………..

While people bushel through the halls of the funeral home, attempting to sign the guestbook and pay their respects to my mother, I caught sight of Captain Crunch and Betty Crocker. Thinking fast, I ducked bottom first into a chair masked with the people who surrounded it.

I find in times like these, people refuse to leave you alone. Most feel that "giving sympathy" will suddenly make the pain all better and they can then go home and find something more entertaining to do. Be aware, sympathy does NOTHING but remind a mourner of his/her loss. Be prepared to cry, but most of all deal with the frustration dealt to you by the hands of humanity. Death, after all, is something one experiences frequently in life. If lucky, you will go quick enough to escape the "my sympathies to your family" before the next death in your family. If not, may the force be with you.

My uncle and aunt sauntered gingerly up to me, standing before my seat, and looked down at me.

"How are you holding up?" Was this guy serious? Did that question ACTUALLY come out of his mouth?! How did he THINK I was holding up?! My mother just died, I'm soon to be moving in with aliens (no thanks to mom), and a whole bunch of fat people were crowding around me to tell me how sorry they were my mother croaked.

"Just peachy" I rolled my eyes sarcastically, making sure he caught my gaze, and then returned my attention on Henry, a spider whom I've grown very fond of these past few minutes.

Unfortunately, when I caught sight of Henry again, he'd already decided to take on the world one person at a time and was in the middle of being squashed by old man Jenkins. Yikes. Sorry Hen! I mean, what a way to die….

"Have you eaten?" Alex bent so she was my height and looked into my eyes. Sure I've eaten Sherlock, it's not like I've been here or anything.

"Have you eaten?" How do you like stupid questions?

"That wasn't the question, please don't switch the subject"

I mocked her in a childish tone, and though she pretended to understand, it still pissed her off. Score! Laura Croft, 1; Betty Crocker, 0. I have a feeling that's the way it'll stay, too.

Standing to stretch my legs, I walked over to back room in order to try and escape some of the pandemonium of the day. I was feeling worse than I had in days; I was pale and dizzy, and through everything, I craved fresh air; I needed it. I felt like if I didn't get any fresh air within, oh say, 30 seconds, I'd be sharing a grave with my mother.

So I did the only thing I knew how; ignoring the stares of my aunt and uncle, and friends of the family, I kicked off my heels and dashed out the back of the funeral home and hauled ass through the empty field that presented itself at me, sucking in as much fresh air as my lungs would allow.