The sharp knife of a short life, well // I've had just enough time
If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a, bed of roses
Sink me in the river, at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
~ If I Die Young ~ The Band Perry ~
Mirrors were cruel things, and she had always known it. They didn't lie, they lacked the capacity. On days when you looked and felt good, that was perfectly alright, but neither of those was true today. Still, the petite blonde stood in front of her full length mirror with a blank expression. Her hair was pulled back into a severe bun, making her look older than she was. The skin beneath her eyes was red and swollen, and the dress hung off her frame. Small to begin with, she'd lost even more weight in the last week. It wasn't because they lacked food. What was it about a death that made people want to cook? The refrigerator was bursting with casseroles and pies that would inevitably, once she found the strength, end up getting tossed into the garbage
Tearing her eyes away from the pale, sickly looked form in the mirror, she glanced outside. The sky was a dark gray, and every now and then a few drops of rain would splatter on the window. It all felt so appropriate. For the past few weeks it had been ninety degrees, the sky a cloudless blue, but how could you lay somebody to rest on a day like that? There was a chill in the air, and she grabbed her sweater off the bed before moving stiffly to the door. The funeral couldn't get started without her, after all.
The grounds of the cemetery were more crowded than she had expected. The Glee kids were there, most of them at least, led by Mr. Schuester. Standing clustered together, they all looked so lost. Even Coach Sylvester and the Cheerios had come, to show support for one of their own and, miracle of miracles, Sue managed to look genuinely sad. Frannie stood right beside her, and as soon as the priest started speaking, their hands found each other. The prayers, the eulogy.....it was all just words, words that ultimately meant nothing, and none of it really sunk in. She was too busy staring at the pictures scattered around the headstone. In every single one of them she was smiling, or laughing, dancing or singing. Beautiful and vibrant and alive. All things she would never be again.
The priest was just wrapping up, perfect timing, because she wasn't sure how much longer she could stand before her legs gave out, when she caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. So Puck had shown up after all. His fingers were curled around a single white rose, and she didn't know whether to laugh or cry, him him or slap him. So she just stared.
The funeral ended, but nobody approached her to offer their condolences. That would be saved for the wake. Instead, they moved away from the gravesite, all conversing in hushed voices. Like this was a library instead of a place where the dead were remembered. The coffin was lowered slowly, the whirring and clicking of gears being carried away on the wind. Leaning over the hole, Puck unclenched his fingers and let the rose fall. He didn't stick around long enough to watch it land haphazardly on the lid, and she couldn't really blame him.
It wasn't until her hand was squeezed that she realized Frannie's fingers were still intertwined with her own
"It was a really nice service."
Tightening her jaw, still fighting to hold back tears, she could only nod. Anything more than that and she wasn't sure she could contain them. Never able to remain quiet for very long, Frannie piped up again.
"I'm going to get the car, mom. Come down whenever you're ready.
As soon as she was out of sight, Judy sunk to her knees in the damp grass and ran her fingers over the marble angel that knelt at the base of the tombstone. So beautiful, but so cold. She wondered briefly if Quinn would be cold. The dress she'd been buried in was so slight, and winter seemed to be coming on faster this year. From the angel, her fingers traveled up (had her hands always shaken like this?) to trace the epitaph etched into the stone as the tears finally rolled down her cheeks
Lucy Quinn Fabray
6/15/1994 - 8/10/2011
"If love could have
save you, you would
have lived forever".