So. How do I explain how it happened?
I don't even know, actually. Just that one sentence:
Then, this may seem a little inappropriate, but in my mind I screamed:
"Can't you just say die? People don't pass away. She didn't pass away. She was suffering. She DIED, can't you people see that? Saying 'pass away' does not soften the blow any!"
I still don't get it. That was the exact sequence of events that I went through when I received that dreaded phone call one week after my birthday. Only I didn't burst out crying.
Of course I was sad. But it was just so unexpected. It's weird, but somehow no one expects a little kid to die. When a 60-year-old is suffering from aggressive cancer, people would just tell his or her relatives: "It'll be alright. So-and-so is going to be just fine."
But in their heart they're already preparing themselves for that flat line, readying themselves to console to sufferer's grieving relatives.
When you tell someone that a mere 9-year-old is suffering from cancer though, people say: "It'll be alright. Erica will be just fine." And in their hearts they believe so.
But you know how the screwed up world works. The 60-year-old probably recovers and lives happily ever after, and vice versa for Erica.
Fucked up, this world is indeed.
***
I went for the wake two nights in a row, on last Thursday and Friday, resulting in extreme fatigue in school on the next day.
I hate it when people say:
Never noticed the pale face, her lips slightly ajar, her fingers stuck up at an odd angles where to mortician didn't, or couldn't make them rest naturally on her torso, and the wounds.
The wounds on her hands where they stuck in a needle and pumped her with bags of blood everyday. The dried blood in the veins that will never heal.
Sleeping? Yeah, right.
Ok, I'm being bitter here, so I'll move on.
The first thing I heard when I alighted from the car was sobbing. Lots and lots of sobbing. It was horrible. I looked around for a familiar face to find comfort and only found a couple of morose friends. I didn't want to cry and make myself and the people around feel worse.
Every time someone drew in a tear-laden sob, I twitched.
(Shit, my fingers are shaking)
The next day was worse, however. I had more friends there, looking equally nerve-wracked as I felt. To my horror, two of my friends just started crying.
Two guys, older than me, hugging each other, trying not to cry. But cry they did. One of them even held a tissue up to his nose and blew.
My nerves started to tremble. No I don't cry in public, no I don't cry in public, no I don't cry in public...
I didn't.
***
We all felt better after that though, as her mom said that she could feel Erica there, playing tricks on us all. Even after she was gone.
Erica's parents and everyone else got locked out of the house on the second day of the wake.
Her mom said:
On the next day, on the way to the funeral, our car got lost. Somehow, we kept taking the wrong road, missing the turnings.
Defeated, we called Erica's mom Ai Mee to tell her that we won't be coming as the body was already in the fire, and we had to hurry to Melaka.
I felt bad. Then,
Lost. Hopelessly, terribly lost. Every, single, damned, one of them. What are the chances of that happening?
Many more Erica-style pranks were pulled during that horrible period, but I don't think I will mention them here.
***
Even in Melaka, when I was couch-potatoing in Shan and bro's room, they were talking about her. How she used to follow them around to play, how cheeky she was, how she liked to cling on to our legs while we walked and never let go.
She was loved by many. That said,
Song of the Day:
"Message in A Bottle - No Doubt and Incubus"
"...a hundred million bottles, washed up on the shore..."
I don't even know, actually. Just that one sentence:
"Erica passed away this morning."First reaction was just plain: "No. NOnonononono."
Then, this may seem a little inappropriate, but in my mind I screamed:
"Can't you just say die? People don't pass away. She didn't pass away. She was suffering. She DIED, can't you people see that? Saying 'pass away' does not soften the blow any!"
I still don't get it. That was the exact sequence of events that I went through when I received that dreaded phone call one week after my birthday. Only I didn't burst out crying.
Of course I was sad. But it was just so unexpected. It's weird, but somehow no one expects a little kid to die. When a 60-year-old is suffering from aggressive cancer, people would just tell his or her relatives: "It'll be alright. So-and-so is going to be just fine."
But in their heart they're already preparing themselves for that flat line, readying themselves to console to sufferer's grieving relatives.
When you tell someone that a mere 9-year-old is suffering from cancer though, people say: "It'll be alright. Erica will be just fine." And in their hearts they believe so.
But you know how the screwed up world works. The 60-year-old probably recovers and lives happily ever after, and vice versa for Erica.
Fucked up, this world is indeed.
***
I went for the wake two nights in a row, on last Thursday and Friday, resulting in extreme fatigue in school on the next day.
I hate it when people say:
"Oh she looks like she's just asleep."Oh shut up, who are you trying to kid? Maybe you think so, but it only because you didn't, couldn't bring yourself to look closely at her.
Never noticed the pale face, her lips slightly ajar, her fingers stuck up at an odd angles where to mortician didn't, or couldn't make them rest naturally on her torso, and the wounds.
The wounds on her hands where they stuck in a needle and pumped her with bags of blood everyday. The dried blood in the veins that will never heal.
Sleeping? Yeah, right.
Ok, I'm being bitter here, so I'll move on.
The first thing I heard when I alighted from the car was sobbing. Lots and lots of sobbing. It was horrible. I looked around for a familiar face to find comfort and only found a couple of morose friends. I didn't want to cry and make myself and the people around feel worse.
Every time someone drew in a tear-laden sob, I twitched.
(Shit, my fingers are shaking)
The next day was worse, however. I had more friends there, looking equally nerve-wracked as I felt. To my horror, two of my friends just started crying.
Two guys, older than me, hugging each other, trying not to cry. But cry they did. One of them even held a tissue up to his nose and blew.
My nerves started to tremble. No I don't cry in public, no I don't cry in public, no I don't cry in public...
I didn't.
***
We all felt better after that though, as her mom said that she could feel Erica there, playing tricks on us all. Even after she was gone.
Erica's parents and everyone else got locked out of the house on the second day of the wake.
Her mom said:
"It's so typical of Erica to be so cheeky..."And somehow, we all felt better.
On the next day, on the way to the funeral, our car got lost. Somehow, we kept taking the wrong road, missing the turnings.
Defeated, we called Erica's mom Ai Mee to tell her that we won't be coming as the body was already in the fire, and we had to hurry to Melaka.
I felt bad. Then,
"No other car made it to the funeral. Erica's playing her tricks again."Only the bus following the hearse made it. Only 4 people besides her parent's made it there. The whole entourage of cars?
Lost. Hopelessly, terribly lost. Every, single, damned, one of them. What are the chances of that happening?
Many more Erica-style pranks were pulled during that horrible period, but I don't think I will mention them here.
***
Even in Melaka, when I was couch-potatoing in Shan and bro's room, they were talking about her. How she used to follow them around to play, how cheeky she was, how she liked to cling on to our legs while we walked and never let go.
She was loved by many. That said,
Erica lives.
But still, we will miss you.
And we still love you.
R.I.P. Erica Karen
1997-2006
But still, we will miss you.
And we still love you.
R.I.P. Erica Karen
1997-2006
Song of the Day:
"Message in A Bottle - No Doubt and Incubus"
"...a hundred million bottles, washed up on the shore..."
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