My Own Funeral

My Own Funeral.

I sit and watch the funeral bordering the time limit it was set for. In their defense, it's a graveyard, and who will stop a funeral full of grieving people? I shadow the crowd of only a few weeping people. Those weeping people were some of what I learned to be my true friends, the people who cared, only a very small percentage of the people I knew. I guess the others just wanted sympathy and attention. They just wanted to play the “my friend just died” card. They were over the world about my supposed death. 

I leave before the funeral ends. I retreated to my apartment. Elizabeth Burch was now gone, just a memory. Only little do I regret what I did. I regret leaving my friends, even though it's probably best. I already bought a new car with a new license plate under the name, “Clara Walls”. Almost all of my belongings were already in the trunk. The only things that remained were the items that I could easily carry. As the sun started to set, I piled myself into the small bug-looking car and drove approximately 3 hours outside of town, far from any hospitals. I got to a town where the missing posters hadn’t been taken down yet. Not far enough. It didn't matter though, this was only a spot to stop at a gas station for a snack. I know they wouldn't know me from the posters. I had changed my hair from a long flowing blonde to a vibrant black short layered cut. I finally arrived at our destination. A cabin on the outskirts of a small town in Oregon. It may not have been out of state,  but it would work.

TIME SKIP: 13 years.

I've been living in Crescent, Oregon for about 13 years now. I have been doing detective work. It doesn't bring in many exciting things, mainly just petty theft. I adopted one of the K-9 puppies that couldn't work a few years back. Grim was a black, long-haired German Shepherd. He was my best friend. Work was somewhat boring, well up until Jan 14, 2019. I look down at my desk, still a little hungover from having my 31st birthday the night before. I read something that made my heart almost stop. Shit. It was a break in the case of Elizabeth Burch from Portland Oregon. My family had a thing for keeping things as they’ve always been. For example, when my older sister went off to college, her room was untouched. It was like she never left. 

There was a break in the case. A book of the maps of Oregon had been found. A book of maps where the town that I had found to be home, had a small dog-eared page. I vaguely remember hiding that in the bottom of a wardrobe somewhere. Why? Why had they gone into my old room? After 13 years to the day. Then it hit me. 13 had always been my favorite number. They must have remembered that. I had been just 18 when I “died”. I realized what I had to do. I had to confess what happened. Why I had to get out, this was going to be a “fun” drive. I get home and pack a few things into a bag. As I’m packing when my boss calls about the case. Crap. I try to explain everything. He surprisingly isn’t mad. I look at him as I did my father. The fact he wasn’t mad made me tear up and I started to cry. I hung up, finished packing, packed Grim into the car, and went back to Portland as Elizabeth Burch. 

After a long 3 hours, I arrived in Portland. I drive into town and the first place I stop is my own grave. Wait. There is someone there. Then I realize who's at my grave. It's Wyatt. He was one of my best friends when I was Elizabeth. I get out of the car and walk up to him.” Wyatt”? I ask. He looks back like he’s seen a ghost. Well I mean he kinda has. “Lizzy”? I nod. He runs and hugs me. He then does something I didn’t expect. He gives me a well-deserved bitch slap. I’m not even mad, all I say is, “Fair enough”. “What in the world were you thinking, did you not think of us” he yells at me. I do not respond, all I do is give a confused look. “We missed you terribly. You should probably know this, Lucy is dead.” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Lucy was one of my best friends when I was Elizabeth. Wyatt can tell by my face that I’m about to cry. He pulls me into a hug and we talk for a while at my grave. 

We decided to walk into town and go to the diner we always went to. We are about to order our regulars when the waitress recognizes me. “Elizabeth”? She asks. When I nod she goes on about how I wouldn’t know her but she never gave up hope and knew I would come back. When she catches herself talking too much she apologizes and takes our orders. We get our food and continue talking. After we pay and are saying our goodbyes he slips in an, ” I love you”. I stop mid-sentence. Had I heard that correctly? “What”? I ask, still a bit in shock. “Here, this will clear it up”. He strides right up to me and kisses me. When we pull away my face feels like it’s on fire. He takes out a pen and writes his new number on my hand. He nods and says, “Now get out of here and go see your parents”.