The air is hollow, and bone chilling, and just cold enough to remind you why you hate the cold and all of its victims. Disease is real, not an illusion, as is death, and loss, and hatred. You could pretend that none of it was happening, but you would only be fooling yourself. And you can't see past its lies and deception, you can only see what's right in front of you. Illusions change your life into something it's not, and soon it's completely unrecognizable. Life is the great illusionist, changing the world as it sees fit.
The only problem, as Mark had learned over and over again, is that once the illusion shatters you're left with nothing at all.
0--0
It's been six years since Angel died. You have the best timing in the world, riding up in the parking lot the same moment that she slipped away from Collins. You were there to comfort him first, and what a job that was. For the first few minutes he was quiet, shocked, but then he began to laugh. You didn't quite understand it then, and you could never understand it now without seeing the moment from behind the lens.
Five years since Maureen gave birth to your daughter. Molly, the most wonderful and energetic thing you've ever seen, will have her birthday in a few months. You love her, you really do, but in a way she isn't yours and never will be. She clings to Joanne likes she should cling to you, but you don't mind it. You would never make a good father anyway.
Maureen has always been notoriously late, whether she's meeting her friends at the Life, or you at the graveyard, or giving birth. It's like she has some natural opposition to being on time.
Collin's grave is next to Angel's. As soon as he began to hit the critical point, you all pitched in to buy the empty plot next to her. But he held on for quite a while, much longer than Mimi, who'd died the week after Molly's second birthday.
Mimi and Roger had grown closer in the wake of Angel's death, something having to do with Roger not wanting to let her grow too far from him. You hadn't heard but the gist of the conversation through the walls, and all you remember is Roger mentioning a dream…an illusion, as he put it.
But she couldn't keep herself alive, not even for Roger, and after a while she stopped going to rehab and started stripping again, the job she'd quit in Angel's memory. The problem was that her best friend wasn't around to cheer her on anymore, and none of you could do it quite like Angel.
That's what Collins said, at least. His last three days were painful with few words, but while he was still coherent you had a conversation. He seemed better, seemed normal, but a few hours later he was all but dead and drugged up. When he died things began to fade, because it was just you, Roger, Maureen, Joanne, and Molly, of course. At three years old, she loved her Uncle Collins even more than she loved her Aunt Mimi (and oh how she loved Mimi), and you had never seen that much sorrow in someone's eyes.
Roger, resilient and stubborn, was the last to go. Sometimes he spent the whole night coughing and convulsing for air, but he refused to admit that he was getting worse. It got to the point that he couldn't leave his bed because if he did he fell to the ground, coughing. So you made sure he was warm and toasty each night, and that he had all that he needed, and wondered when you had so fully committed yourself to your friends.
Joanne had Maureen. Maureen had Molly. Molly had them both.
You had Roger, just Roger now, because you would never make a good addition to their happy family.
But then you didn't have Roger, and it was all because of a crack in the window and a little cold weather.
You hated the cold.
0--0
Molly had five roses in her hand. They were smashed from a child's grasp, but who would really care? Wear and tear shows love, just like the old stuffed dog that Collins had spent his last three dollars on as a birthday present. Angel, she named it, because she had heard so many good things about her Auntie Angel, and how much Uncle Collins loved her, and she wanted to remember it all by.
Maureen trailed behind Joanne and Molly, her eyes focused on the two before her. Molly was gorgeous, with her blonde curls and pretty hazel eyes. Maureen had wondered how well Joanne would deal with the baby, and boy was she surprised. Joanne had committed to Molly, and Molly was so smitten with Joanne that some times Maureen couldn't believe that she was the one that gave birth.
Mark's smiling, and waves to Molly. She lets out a squeal and runs for him. She knows him as Daddy Mark. There's Mommy Maureen, Mommy Joanne, and Daddy Mark—just to even it all out. Dysfunctional, maybe, but they sure are happy.
She's somber as she lays a rose on Auntie Angel's grave, then Auntie Mimi, then Uncle Collins, and then Uncle Roger. And then, with a kiss, she puts the last rose on the grave of Uncle Benny. He had, after Allison kicked him out because of his infidelity and disease, come crawling back to his former friends. He didn't have ownership of Mark's building anymore, but he still had a bank account. He handed Maureen a check, all the money that Molly would need to go to college, and they didn't see him again until the third funeral. He was shaky and quite the wreck without Allison, and told them that he was moving away to be somewhere warmer. But within the year he was back, this time in a casket, having requested burial in the same place as all of his friends.
"So, uh, are you three coming to the café with me? I'm going for lunch."
"I have to work," Joanne says, shaking her head. "Some jerk decided to blackmail his boss, and I don't have any free time because of it."
"Well I'd love to come!" Maureen exclaims. "Molly? How'd you like to go to lunch with Daddy Mark and me?"
"To the Life Café?" she asks, excited. She'd heard many great stories about the old hangout.
"Where else?"
Joanne gives them both a quick kiss and Mark a small hug. "I'll see you two later," she winks, and walks in the direction of the subway.
0--0
"This is where you all used to come to eat, right? You three, and Auntie Angel, Auntie Mimi, Uncle Collins, and Uncle Roger? And Uncle Benny too, right?"
"Sometimes," Mark nods. He has one of her hands while Maureen has the other. He isn't carrying his camera.
"Did we ever tell you how we all met?" Maureen asks, looking down at her daughter.
Molly shakes her head.
"Well, it was Christmas Eve," Mark begins, "and it all started when Uncle Benny wanted us to pay our rent…"
0FIN0
The end.
The closing.
The finish.
The conclusion.
The last line gives me chills.
Aren't you proud of me? I finished a multi-chaptered story! That's only ever happened one other time, and it kind of died after the sequel…but that doesn't matter. Illusions is over!! It seemed right to me to end it with Mark looking back. Like he'd carefully stored all those memories away until the end of them came along. And then he replayed them, just like he was making a movie.
Thanks for sticking around so long! I can't express how thankful I am for all of you!
And now here is my thank you list. I've put it in the form of movie credits because I'm anxious, and kind of bored, and it seems like a fun idea.
0--0
Writer: Manyissues101Ali
Beta: Ginger Glinda the Tangerine
Dedicated to: Wafer, the happiest puppy that ever lived. May you rest in peace. 04/10/08 – 09/10/08
Thanks to:
The Coca-Cola company. Vault saves my muse.
Ramen manufacturers
Cheesy Garlic Bread
Squaresoft/Square Enix. Your games took a large portion of my life away, but parts inspired me.
Anna Nalick
Alfred Hunshanks III (my computer)
Jonathan Larson
Ginger Glinda the Tangerine
Everyone who's ever reviewed, favorited, alerted, etc.
The people who looked over this last chapter
Y O U!!
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