#day29 burial
For@mysme-fictober2020
Day 29: Burial
“Yoosung please.” Saeyoung tried to pull the man closer but Yoosung pushed him away.
“No!” he screamed and ran back to the chair. Saeran’s chair. The one he always sat in next to the window where he could feel the sun and watch the clouds. The one he always chose when he read or took a small nap. The one where Yoosung would sit on his lap and Saeran would pretend to be annoyed. The one that had his scent all over it.
Saeyoung sighed and sat on the bed facing Yoosung, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. He stared at Yoosung, watching him twist himself into a fetal position on the chair, hugging himself with his face buried into the cushiony backrest. Tears sprang to his eyes and he had to look away.
“Just…listen to me OK?” Saeyoung said, Yoosung shrugged but said nothing. “We’re going to be leaving in about thirty minutes and I expect you in the car.”
There was a muffled “No.” from Yoosung, causing Saeyoung to sigh again.
“Look at yourself!” he stood and raised his voice. “Do you think this is what Saeran would want for you? To be tied to his memory for the rest of your life?” he knew he was being cruel, but he didn’t know what else to do.
“Shut up! You don’t know what he wants, he’s not here anymore!” Yoosung spat back at him, tears rolling down his face, his fists clenched, body tense.
“I know. I’m not asking you to let him go Yoosung, not all of him. But he deserves better than this. You do too. Please…” he pleaded and held his hand towards Yoosung. It looked as if he would refuse but his eyes softened and he took the hand, letting Saeyoung pull him up and out of the chair.
Saeran had been declared brain dead only days before and they had taken him off life support. The accident that had put him in the hospital had been horrific, a ten car pileup which had left sex people dead on the scene and several more dead in the days that followed, Saeran being one of them. Yoosung had survived without a scratch on him. Saeyoung understood that he would likely have to deal with and concur the very real survivor’s guilt. As far as Saeyoung was concerned, he didn’t blame Yoosung for surviving, he was grateful he had, the loss of them both would have been even more traumatizing to them all.
It was ironic that he had so recently found and reconnected with his twin, only to have him permanently snatched from him.
“I just can’t…he…he’s really gone?” Yoosung sobbed as they walked into the living room where MC waited.
“I know.” Saeyoung agreed, he didn’t want to believe it either.
“It just, doesn’t…I still feel him…” Yoosung protested.
“Me too.” And that was the rub. They were twins, yet nothing in his bones told him his brother was dead. He should feel something, shouldn’t he? When they were younger, he could always tell when their mother was especially harsh on Saeran because he could almost feel the physical abuse himself, even if he was out of the house. This usually made him return as fast as possible. He would usually find Saeran locked in the closet bruised and battered, or in a heap on the floor passed out from being hit in the head. There were also times while they were separated that he was almost sure what he was feeling was something happening to Saeran.
Now, he felt a strange emptiness. An emptiness he told himself must mean Saeran was dead. But he couldn’t quite convince himself of it. He could not however, deny his own eyes. He’d watched Saeran take his last breath, had watched as the heart monitor flatlined. No, whatever he felt, Saeran was dead and the sooner he dealt with that reality, the better. For all of them.
“We should get going, Jumin is picking up Jaehee and Zen, they’ll meet us at the funeral home.”
“No…he…he isn’t…he can’t be…I…” Yoosung muttered to himself but let Saeyoung lead him towards the vehicle. They gently helped him into the back seat and Saeyoung got behind the wheel while MC took the passenger seat. She reached over to him and gave his hand a squeeze. If it hadn’t been for her, Saeyoung didn’t think he would have survived his brother’s death.
He drove slowly, not wanting to get to where they were going. Not wanting to say goodbye forever. Unfortunately, it didn’t take them long to reach their destination. They struggled getting Yoosung out of the car, mostly because he seemed to be in another world.
Five minutes after they entered the viewing room Jumin and the others arrived. None of them had wanted to go see him. Because the cause of death had been the accident, Saeyoung had asked for there to be no autopsy, the idea of his brother’s body being cut up was revolting. The only thing he had asked of the mortician was to cover up the bruising on his face and the patch of hair that was missing from his head.
Yoosung stared at the coffin on the far side of the room. As the others spoke softly to each other he began making his way towards it. There was a whisper, a sound, a sensation that itched at his brain. The lid was down so he was unable to see what was inside.
“H…he…he’s not dead…” he murmured. A few more steps and he was sure, it was Saeran, he was hearing Saeran. “He’s Not Dead!” he screamed and broke into a run. Zen reacted quickly and grabbed him before he had upended the coffin.
“Stop it!” he held onto the man as he struggled. Yoosung had very little strength left in him and it was not difficult for Zen to hold him.
The others surrounded them now and looked worried.
“He’s gone Yoosung.” Jumin said gently. He stepped towards the coffin and opened the lid. Saeran lay in the comfortable confines, eyes closed, as if he was asleep. The mortician had done and excellent job, he didn’t look as if he had been in an accident at all. Yoosung calmed down and Zen let him go. He stared at Saeran in disbelief and shook his head.
“No, no, no.” he kept repeating the word like a mantra, but he felt defeated and sank onto a pew.
The service was short, some of the people that showed up were friends Saeran had made going to therapy groups and through his photography hobby. There were also friends he had made through Yoosung, including Yoosung’s family, who also appeared worried about him.
Once the service was over, the people made their way to the cemetery next door, most walked, some took a vehicle. The RFA opted to walk.
Saeyoung looked up at the sky and smiled. Saeran would have loved this day. The sun was shining and the clouds were full, floating gently in the breeze.
“Can’t you hear him?” Yoosung muttered. He scratched at his head, it buzzed with so much noise, but he was sure Saeran was there as well.
Saeyoung and MC exchanged a worried glance. Jumin had already suggested they seek therapy for Yoosung, who was the one taking Saeran’s death the worst. Yoosung had declined, unwilling to admit Saeran was gone. They had not forced the issue, but perhaps they would need to revisit that option.
When they reached the burial site, the coffin was already suspended over it, ready to be lowered. Yoosung looked up and tilted his head. There was that whisper again, that scratching, that sound! He looked around but it didn’t seem like anyone else heard it. But Saeyoung was Saeran’s twin, why didn’t he hear it? He grabbed Saeyoung’s suit jacket by the lapels and pulled him in, face to face.
“Why can’t you hear it! You must hear it! Hear HIM! He’s your twin! Listen! Open your mind! He’s alive!” he screamed in Saeyoung’s face. Jumin and Zen had to pull him off Saeyoung and once he was, Yoosung collapsed and began to sob.
“I’ll take care of him.” Zen said and waved the others on.
“No. We shouldn’t…” Saeyoung began but MC took his hand and pulled him.
“You need to say goodbye.” She urged. He sighed and nodded, leaving Yoosung in Zen’s capable hands.
What was Yoosung talking about? What couldn’t he hear? They stopped a foot away from the coffin. He could hear others in the small crowd crying. Crying for his brother. In the short time he’d had them, he’d made wonderful friends who cared about him. More than Saeyoung himself had ever made. It gave him some small comfort to know that his twin had had so much happiness before he died. He deserved so much more.
The spiritual leader said some nice words that Saeyoung didn’t even hear and then it was time to lower the casket. MC squeezed his hand in support as they all watched it go down. Yoosung was sobbing loudly, pleading for them not to lower it, not to bury him, he was still alive. Saeyoung shook his head and became angry, why couldn’t Yoosung stop! It was hard enough without that thought in his head, Saeran buried alive!
Saeran buried alive…Saeran…buried alive. Saeyoung’s head snapped up, eyes wide.
“Stop!” he demanded. “Pull him back up!” he told the man who was cranking the apparatus used to lower the casket. The man looked to the priest who just shrugged. “NOW!” Saeyoung screamed in the man’s face. Without a second thought he pulled it back up and Saeyoung threw the lid open. There were several gasps from those attending but he didn’t care.
Saeran hadn’t moved, he still looked asleep, hands clasped across his chest. He waited, and he listened. There was nothing at first, then he heard it. A whisper, like paper being slid across a desk. A sound, pages in a book being flipped. A scent, Saeran’s shampoo, the one Saeyoung had gotten him as a joke, strawberry children’s shampoo. He’d used it just to spite Saeyoung, but it turned out he’d liked it and kept buying it.
“Saeran?”
“Saeyoung…” MC lay her hand on his shoulder and he flinched, but she didn’t let go. “He’s gone honey.” Saeyoung shook his head.
“No, no he’s not…” he looked back and locked eyes with Yoosung, who was still being held by Zen, both men sitting on the grass. Yoosung smiled and nodded slowly.
“Come on Saeran!” Saeyoung yelled at his brother. The whisper became a hushed tone, louder and louder until it was a chorus. Saeyoung closed his eyes and willed his essence, his soul, his being, whatever it was called, his life force towards his brother’s body, and there it was. Faint, floundering, but still there. Saeran was still there.
Saeran opened his eyes and stared into the clouded sky. He couldn’t breathe, his chest felt constricted and then like a cork flying off a bottle, his breath came slamming back into his lungs. He choked, the coppery taste of blood on his tongue. When he was able to breath normally, he noticed all the faces staring at him. He nodded his thanks to his brother and finally smiled when he met amethyst eyes.
