Page 23 - The Houseguest

CREMAINS
The accident had made all the news channels and of course, the papers. I never realized how callous reporters are in their quest for a story until I was the interviewee with microphones shoved obnoxiously in my face. Did they even hear the words they were saying, or were they just so intent on beating the competition with the most shocking headline, that nothing else mattered? “Mr. Richards, can you tell us how you feel about the young driver, Rachel Spence? And if you could say one thing to her, what would that be?” That question actually haunted me...what would I say should I ever come face-to-face with the selfish bitch who took my everything? I could literally feel Karina’s good soul in my heart asking me, begging me, to grant forgiveness. She used to say: “No one should hold ire in their heart. Mercy is the only answer.” Her words were poised on the tip of my tongue, but never made their way out because I didn’t feel them, as much as I tried...for her. Forgiveness was simply not in my arsenal of feelings. That day, staring blankly into their coldhearted faces, I said nothing. There hadn’t even been time for me to process my loss, and that act needed to be delayed as long as possible. For once it was all “processed,” it would then become reality. Sitting with the funeral director being taught things I never wanted to learn, he explained that when a body is cremated, the remains are referred to as “cremains.” Cremains? My beautiful Karina and my sweet Katie would now be cremains. Two beautiful, living breathing people would soon resemble what falls off the end of a cigarette. My brain denied the reality of the physical process.
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The Houseguest by Linda Ellis www.LindaEllis.life