nina is equal parts shaken by the events that haunt their once seemingly perfect town, and horrified at how quickly a funeral can be thrown together. sure, it takes such careful planning, every detail needing to be exact, it has to be perfect, but nina’s real problem lies within the fact that the funeral being so soon means there’s no time to grieve between finding out, and burying her. the last thing she’ll ever do, be laid to rest, is happening too quickly.
she hates to think of lisa as anything less than a person, but as she watched her coffin be carried into the church on the shoulders of men she didn’t recognise, it dawned on her that she’s just a body now --- then again, is her body even in there ? is the postmortem finished ? it’s a good sign if so, right ? there’s a reason nina’s a tattoo artist and not a detective; she hasn’t the foggiest how any of this works. that is, until she entered the church and was greeted with an open casket. there went her questions.
she was late into the service. heads turned accusingly as she pushed the heavy church door open once the service had already began, she planted herself in the back, out the way, and proceeded to take absolutely none of the service in. she’d been one of the many to leave flowers beneath the yellow crime tape that sectioned off the park on the day they found her, which lead to a spell of anxiety and a thousand blurted out questions to another mourner; does someone collect these flowers ? or do they just sit there, until the cards attached and the crinkly clear wrapping are the only things left and the flowers have tuned to sludge ? the flowers die too and the packaging is left to ruin the planet. teddies and letters and flowers are no use to a dead girl, yet nina left her own bouquet too --- she’d thought about dropping them by the church, but decided against it just as quickly. but as she rose from crouching to lay the flowers down, straightening her legs seemed so much harder. like the air was thicker, harder to push through. a cloud hovers over this little town of theirs.
now, though, the service is over, and the crowd begins to break away, small clusters of mourners in black traipsing back down the path. nina stands on the sidelines once more, out of the way; she was hardly even able to hear the words said as they lowered lisa into the ground, but anything said would’ve floated straight past her ears, face pale bar the circles under her eyes, mouth slightly open as her eyes look beyond lisa’s father, like she sees right through him. arms crossed over her chest, she’s unsure of what to do now, of where to go. there’s a gentle breeze toying with the hem of her dress, revealing varying amounts of the black tights that aren’t thick enough to properly hide her tattoos, nor provide much in the way of warmth.
she stands there far too long, momentarily catching the attention of various mourners as they leave, their heads looking up, eyebrows furrowing at the girl stood out the way who just seems to be staring, before looking down again, or back to their companion. it’s just moments as they pass by, but nina catches them. and she knows she’s been there for too long, when the crowd has withered away enough for nina to catch sight of lisa’s mother, and nina knows immediately that she should’ve done more; they’re her parents, lisa was a child ---- nina should’ve known better. instead of seeing lisa as herself ten years ago, she should’ve seen the person she was. lisa was a child, and nina took her under her wing but never thought to think of how distraught her parents would be if anything happened to her, from spending her nights slumming it with her newfound thornhill friends, or dying. she’s too ashamed to approach the woman, and knows there’s nothing nina could do; making her presence known would just spark questions that she can’t answer ---- though, she supposes, it doesn’t really matter now.
when lisa’s mother looks in nina’s direction, nina knows it’s time for her to leave, springing into action too quickly when she meets her eye, as if she’s been caught, and her boots are soon clicking against the concrete as she scurries away. she wasn’t doing anything wrong, just mourning a death that hasn’t sunken in yet, but she feels as though she shouldn’t be here. a glimpse of her sister earlier was enough to make her duck her head until there was no chance of being seen by her, but having lisa’s mother merely look in her direction is enough for nina to decide it’s time to go home.
she’s unsure if there’s a wake, or if she’s welcome, but she doesn’t try and find out. her feet carry her home without much though, and the streets are eerily quiet ---- either due to everyone being busy paying their respects, or everyone now being too scared to walk the streets alone, nina can’t tell. she doesn’t know what to believe, either ---- rumours are already spreading like wildfire. it’s just so soon. she was so young. the past seventy-two hours have both dragged out, and flown by -- her mother used to say that when someone dies, it’s like everyone they know is an escaped carousel horse; they’re no longer on the carousel anymore, but the carousel keeps spinning, and one day, when it’s ready, the horse gets back on the carousel. but the entire town has jumped off the carousel, so how is it still spinning ? how can the world carry on when this happens ?
but it does. and they do. and nina will never let the world see her sweat, so when she passes the trailer she first saw lisa outside of, she bows her head and walks a little faster. when her brain wants to remind her of the times that she and lisa sat outside her trailer smoking, she fumbles with her keys to gets through the door quicker. purse and keys fall onto the table, boots are kicked off, and nina is free to allow herself to drown in the emptiness.
