The funeral

                                                 The Funeral
They both sat starring at the coffin in front of them. It was all too surreal. A pyramid shaped column of darker light hung over the coffin. The rest of the query plane query church was filled with daylight. A bolt of lightning swept through the column before they could come up with an explanation for said phenomena. The roar of thunder almost blew both their eardrums.
They could not quite tell where they were. What a strange place. If they had not known any better they would have sworn they were in a cockpit. Yes, a cockpit as in where their father sat when he flew the planes.
Wrong elements! Wrong season! Wrong place! Everything was just wrong and made absolutely no sense! All they knew was that it was a totally inappropriate carry on for a funeral service. The culprits should be dealt with very harshly one would imagine. Must they continue to torment the poor woman even in her death? Whoever they were they should be ashamed of themselves.
Another bolt of lightning preceded the roar of an engine. Somebody shouted, "Lift off! Lift off!" with their lips pressed tight against their outer ears. The only time they pressed their lips that tight against anything was when they learned to resuscitate on Resusi-Annie down at the ambulance station.
As if on cue, the coffin rose into the air! Their body jerked forward where it stayed. A hand with three burnt fingers as long as their body pushed it very heavily back against the hard wood backrest of the front row bench. They were certain people in the row behind them could hear their skinny bony back crack.
The door behind the pulpit which was inside the cockpit, cracked open and someone walked heavily towards it for what seemed like forever. That person  never showed. The engine of the coffin coughed and splattered fire through its bottom. The altar, the pulpit and the rest of the cockpit were on fire! Strange blood red flames formed a path from underneath the coffin towards the back door behind the pulpit.
The walking towards the door behind the pulpit continued. What to do! Listen to the walking, concentrate on the coffin. No, listen to the walking, no concentrate on the coffin. They tried to move closer, but could not move! The door behind the pulpit cracked open even further despite it being surrounded by the strange coloured red flames. A figure walked inside the fire. It walked and walked and then, suddenly, there it was in front of them. It was a woman who seemed unharmed by the fire. The figures that followed her were not that lucky. They were burnt to charcoal and fell apart when she pushed them over. She raised her hands to either side of her temples and began rubbing the area in circles. Small slow circles which the two knew would have put them to sleep under different circumstances. They heard bang! bang! bang! bang and all they could do was try yet again to move their body. And just like the previous occasion, no luck. They sat and watch as the strange red flames burst from both the woman's temples. Needless to say, their heart had gone into tachycardia by this time. No one else seemed to have noticed her. She turned and walked back through the burning door. The walking went on for what seemed forever. Another bolt of thunder ripped through the church and directly into their eardrums.
They wondered whether their mother and the other churchgoers in the row realised that the coffin was suspended in the air. They tried blinking and squinting to get a clear visual and to make sense of the scenario on the slightly elevated stage across the narrow aisle from them. Perhaps there was a glass slab under the coffin. Or, could it be that the woman's dead relatives were so happy to see her that they held her up in the air for all and sundry to see? They've heard all sorts of rumours of people who had wanted the old woman at number three dead. They knew there was no way she was ever going to move from the neighbourhood. It never dawned on them to ask why people wanted her gone. No, they were only too happy to add her to their list of people to harass.
That, or lunch was not what they thought it was. Mmm, how they were in need of one of those lunches just about then. It was in the back garden of number three that they planted their marijuana crop. Said marijuana crop flourished until the police arrived one bright summer's day to harass the occupant of number three who was let off the hook because of her advanced age. That night she fled from the warmth of her house when they set fire to their crop. When she rushed down the stairs she fell over and broke her hip. Stories soon filtered through the neighbourhood that the evil spirits she send to all their homes had pushed her over. Their father refused to go to her aid that night. It was their mother who called the ambulance and who sat with her until daybreak.
When the noise first started they thought it was the old preacher falling over in the adjoining room. He was known to enjoy a bit of the communion wine well ahead of the others. After five minutes they tried reaching for one another. Something was definitely wrong and it was scaring them. Now, everybody in their little hollow knew they did not scare easily. They were the ones who caused others to live in fear.
They remembered how they spend many a night toying with the old woman at number three. A picture of the woman standing in her door, candle in hand, trying to see who was outside flashed over the coffin. They tried getting closer to each other but found it impossible to move.
It was then that it happened...help!
"What the ...! Blink! Blink some more! Well, if you cannot blink, look the other way, silly!" Who said that to whom? They accused each other of being the culprit. Just like when they were both ....
The head had appeared from within the coffin and seemed determined to divorce the rest of its body. Outside the wind played the roof like an orchestra auditioning for a role in the death march. It was fascinating in a weird way they thought where they sat rigor mortis still in their body. That would teach them for wanting to sit right up front. They both noticed that the hair on their body was standing on edge!
Why, oh why, did they let their dear mother convince them to attend the old hag's funeral! They should have known she would rebel against embarking on the one way journey without her evil spirits. A church service was probably too peaceful an event. The old hag thrived on making others miserable. It was just like her they thought, there had to be one last disturbance before they saw the last of her.  It had taken their mother promises of stay at home and chore free Monday to get them to accompany her on that creepy sandy wind blowing Sunday.
They trembled each time the wind bragged about how loud it could hit the hundred year old roof. The rest of the congregation, including their mother, seemed to be far away in another dimension despite being visible in their peripheral visual field. Their mother looked like she was on a movie screen. It was raining around her but she remained dry. It was all too weird for them to even try to make sense of the madness. Right behind their mother stood their father framed inside a doorway. He's pearly whites were clearly visible and he was laughing out loud, "Now you know why I kept telling you to stay away from that old goat. There you have it. Try and get yourself out of that mess! I warned you I will have the last laugh!" 
They were too scared to utter a single word where they sat as if the cat had literally robbed them of their normally smooth talking tongue. They would have laughed had someone told them even an hour earlier that they would be too scared to even touch one another. Neither could get himself to blink his eye. The eyes set deep within the head on the coffin refused to have mercy on theirs. It held their gaze with such magnetism, it was impossible to break free.
They tried to gain their mother's attention. They had no way of reaching inside  the frozen frame of air that separated her from them. After a minute or two of close observation they could tell that the frame was transparent. That, which they thought the eye could see, was not actually there.
The wind came swooshing around their heads and then someone spoke, "You idiot! Did I not warn you that one day I would make you pay for your sins! Do you think I enjoyed being the town fool? Oh look at you! Who is tormenting who now, you little rascal. Go ahead, wet your pants you evil creature! Come up here and I'll show you what I did to that dead brother of yours. You couldn't save him back then. Now he cannot save you. Brrr! What is that monster playing ball inside your pants! Brrr! Who is afraid of the wicket witch now? Stop whining you little snot! You and your dead brother have not seen the wrath of my anger yet. This is only the beginning of your end!"
They opened their mouth and what was left of their common sense escaped. They did what their mother always told them not to, they reacted without considering the consequences. Knee-jerk reaction was what their mother called it. They could clearly hear their mother's voice as she reprimanded them, "You are too quick to react to the people's accusations. Why can't you be more like the woman at number three? She never reacts to any of the bad rumours the gossipmongers spread around here."
They opened their mouth! Remember that cat? Well it actually came and stole their tongue right from inside their mouth! The hair of its furry paw added a salty taste to the blood that slowly filled their oral cavity. The messages their brain send to their neurones paused before it reached the dendrites...the blood inside their mouth froze into a South Pole- cold blob.
The head then opened its mouth and swallowed their tongue! It was no easy feat trying to control the bile that threatened to invade from where it was  pushing against the upper esophageal sphincter.
A furry ball appeared from nowhere and went into a cat fight with the now aggressive head. Something that protruded from the head pushed the furry ball off the coffin. The latter would have none of it. It roared like a lion and climbed up the side of the coffin like an ordinary house trained pussy cat. A snake, or some monster sounding just like it, hissed towards the furry ball. The two sitting in the church pews tried to blink.
"Blink! Quick, blink! If you cannot blink then look away silly!"
They bit down on the South Pole- cold blob in an attempt to rid themselves of the unbelievable truth filling their central visual field. The head was pushing their tongue in the direction of the furry ball! Strike them dead! How did they know it was their tongue? The pimple which they were nervously pressing against the inside of their lower lip on the way to the church was clearly visible. Their tongue grew, the pimple grew larger. The pimple which was bigger than their own head, pushed the furry ball down onto the end of the coffin where it send it to pussy heaven with one fatal bite. Then the head spat their tongue into the air exposing the poisonous fang that killed the furry ball. Their tongue turned in a circle and dropped some venom from the dizzying heights onto the congregation below.
They became aware of the sour smell and the gurgle sound before they saw the movements. The head had started eructating! Burrph! Purff! Burrph! Purff! Burrph and the head made a forward motion. Purff, there was that hand pulling it back. Strange but yet true. Terrifyingly pants wetting truth. When the head moved back it toiled heavily to suck air into its lungs that was trapped inside the coffin. Just because one cannot see something does not mean it did not exist. The head eructated again with such intensity that the two knew something serious was about to happen. They were not wrong either. The head moved forward, stopped, probably expecting the hand to grab it back, then it reached right to the end. The two sat with their jaw dropped so far, it actually hurt. The head had reached all the way to the end of the coffin. After five long drawn out burps, it unleashed a rather voluminous amount of vomitus onto the congregation.
Among the sour smelling pulp was the head of their little dog which they once set upon the old woman at number three. Alcohol fumes filtered through the room. Hmm they tried moving closer to each other once again. Once again they realised they would have to reassure each other telepathically. The harsh reality finally hit them. They would never be able to physically touch each other ever again.
Just then the congregation rose. They stopped before they could stretch into the erect position. If their predicament was not so dire it would have been quite a comical sight. Bums were pushed outwards and breasts forward. They looked like an athlete waiting to jump at the sound of the gun. Somehow this was cause for the spectacle they both sat watching with bated breath. The head started turning! No mercy shown to their eyes, not even then. The congregation remained in their awkward position whilst their mother continued to stand in the rain. No one saw the spider web slowly spinning towards the two!
They both tried to raise a hand to cover their eyes. As if applying pressure would remove the sudden onset of the sharp stinging pain the minute the head began to spin. When the sharp pain subsided the ocular headache exploded like a Gum tree covered in Christmas tree. The South Pole- blob inside their mouth was starting to heat up! It felt like a warm gooey mess once the cold had completely gone from it. The sheer volume of it became too much and was seriously interfering with their breathing. They opened the corners of their mouth and allowed the blood to seep out onto the church floor. People seemed oblivious to the sticky liquid licking around their shoes at first and eventually their ankles. Meanwhile the strange red flames continued to burn all over the church. Somehow the churchgoers themselves remained unharmed.
The two had trouble trying to prioritise. Breathe or watch the rising blood level? Breathe, or watch the rising blood level? Well, they must have been considering some other bodily function for breathing was not a consideration at that moment. They were too scared. Not scared, terrified! Scared was the understatement of the eons. But then, terrified also did not do their emotion justice. Adrenalin pumping, blood pressure sky rocketing, nerve impulse malfunctioning, heart stopping terror. Somebody or something laughed from somewhere over the coffin.
Their mother was still standing in the rain. Behind her was a frame within which they clearly saw themselves. They were throwing bricks at the old woman who lived at number three. They watched as the brick hit her against the side of her head. Chaos erupted behind them and soon people were filing into the frame to help the woman from number three. The whole congregation had snapped out of their trance. In the open space over the frame their father appeared in another. He opened the door to their home and they saw themselves rush past him.
The head opened its mouth and their tongue rose out of it and curled towards the door where their father stood. It was a blur of confusion. They knew the mouth had rejected their tongue earlier. How could it possibly have made its way back without them noticing! The spinning web moved faster towards them. Their tongue moved a lot faster towards their father. Unbelievable! Not possible! They let their bladder go the moment the tongue curled around their father and ripped him out of the door, through the air and into the head's mouth!
The frame that their mother was in was gone. Their mother along with the rest of the congregation was now kneeling and probably praying as if they were attending a normal funeral service. The web felt like iron bars against their skin. They tried to free themselves but their hands were too short. Fur flew everywhere as they fought the web. The web fought back and managed to pull one of their arms from its socket. They freaked when it saw their arm caught in the opposite side of the web. Their lunch was definitely not what they thought it was. How could they be seeing that... No... Not possible...On the other side of the web hung a cat's paw!
Bang! Bang! Bang! The head reached in the direction of the corner, high above where the sound originated. Just as it stretched upwards, a hand appeared from under it and pulled it back onto the coffin. Uurrgghh! They could take no more. The cat paw was by then completely hidden in the spider's web. Where was the spider they managed to signal to each other just before they caught sight of it. They wish they could retract that unspoken question. The spider was sitting over the coffin, high above the head with its legs lifting it towards the ceiling and the congregation. On top of the spider sat their father's head!
They could feel their body being lifted off the church bench. Everything went black as they hung high above the preacher's head.
Their mother continued to pray. The preacher could be seen paging through a book at the pulpit. It was as if no one cared that they were up there and obviously on their way to share in their father's fate.
Their tongue curled down towards the preacher who stood dead set in the middle of the raging fires. The tongue ripped his legs from underneath him and swung him upside down to the side of the coffin where he tied him with the web.
They and the preacher were hovering over the pulpit where they now hung suspended and handcuffed to opposite sides of the coffin. Ahead of them was a large frame featuring the preacher. He had his hand up the woman from number three's skirt and she was pushed against the old fashion chest of drawers in her living room. They could see that she was desperately trying to communicate with the preacher who was determined to have his way with the old woman from number three. Outside the wind was in competition with an unknown competitor to see who could blow the preachers toupee from his head in the loudest possible fashion. The web was cutting into their wrists and the coffin moved as if it was flying through a bout of bad air turbulence. The congregation down on the ground seemed a million miles away. They felt sick on their stomach just like the time they flew abroad the aircraft that crash landed and killed ...
The wind started screaming around their ears as the woman from number three succumbed to the anal assault that the preacher launched against her. She screamed as the tongue curled around the preacher's neck. The preacher's tongue protruded from his mouth and he turned a funny purple colour. He tried to scream but no sound was audible from his moving lips. The tongue ripped his tongue from his mouth and hung it on the side of the coffin. His body burst into flames as the web set it free. They watched in shock horror as a small piece of black coal landed on the pulpit. The congregation was sitting frozen and completely unaware of the massacres taking place around the hovering coffin.
They could feel their body being lifted into the air and then let go of so it could crash against the hard coffin. The chrome handle hit them dead set in the centre of their forehead. There was no need for a mirror, they could feel the nasty bump. Within seconds the bump had grown into another head. The eyes of this head starred at them with empty eye sockets. They tried to look away from the empty eye sockets but the head would not let them. The woman from number three came from inside the left eye socket. She stood at her gate and watched how they attacked the boy who fetched her groceries. The boy tried to fight them off but was no match for them. They watched as they kicked the woman's milk from the boy's hands. It crashed to the ground and they ran away shaking with laughter.
They saw the woman helping the boy to his feet and planting a kiss on his forehead. That made them cringed. The woman from number three then came from the right socket. She walked across the road to their home. For the first time they felt ashamed of their behaviour. Their father opened the door and slammed it in the woman's face. As she walked away they saw the two of them, in their body, turning the garden hose on the woman. It was then that they heard their father scream inside the coffin. He was suffocating he said and needed them to rescue him. Strangely, his head was still sitting on top of the coffin.
Their father's calling was suddenly drowned by the noise the coffin made as it increased its speed and moved against the wind. That move angered the wind no end and she unforgivingly pushed the coffin from side to side. The coffin came to an abrupt stop over the women who sang in the choir. The tongue, their tongue, that now seemed to want nothing to do with them, curled downwards and returned with the lead singer. She must have thought she was on her way somewhere else for she had both arms thrown up in the air. The spider took over from the tongue as it lifted her skirt and hung her from her panties upside down on the front of the coffin. She broke into uncontrollable shrieking when she realised she was not where she thought she was heading.
The web around their wrist was that tight it had started to draw blood. The head reprimanded them for not paying attention to the new frames. Somebody or something was trying to climb over something in the pitch black night. On closer observation they realised it was the choir singer climbing over the back fence between her house and number three. The back door to number three opened and a man appeared topless. The two kissed and embraced after which the man went down on the choir singer who moaned with pleasure. The curtain to one of the windows drew apart and a figure watched the entire act of fornication with them.
It was amazing how the choir singer was able to watch the frame from where she hung upside down from the front of the coffin. The two could not understand why someone yelled into their ears that the choir woman had better watch herself. She had a long drop down to the church floor and she was losing her panties. The choir woman must have known for she could be heard begging for someone to help her. She was afraid of the blood that was rising fast towards her. A column of blood could be seen underneath her. The voice called out against the ears of the two, oh yes, something was touching it, "You wanted to shed your panties so now is your opportunity evil woman! Do you realise how much pain you caused all those women whose husbands you entertained in your bed? You turned me into a murderer. I killed him. Where do you think he disappeared to? Did you think I was going to allow you to turn him into the town laughing stock like you did so many others? What sort of a mother would I have been to allow that? Certainly not one I would have been proud to call my own."
Their father was still desperately calling for help. His voice became softer after a while. The choir singer could be seen holding onto her panties. She was no longer hanging upside down but seemed more scared. The head moved forward and terrorised the choir singer with the fang. It moved the fang right onto the choir singer's hands where she had a strong grip on her panties. The head started turning full speed and when it stopped the tongue curled around the choir woman's neck, pulled her away from her panties and send her head first into the rising blood. The two knew their time to die was fast approaching.
The coffin engine roared and spat fire all around it. The two knew their body was alight and there was nothing they could do about it. Their only wish was that their mother would not see them burning alive.
A bolt of lightning hit the coffin almost sending it off course. It dropped a few feet but then almost immediately rose back to the just under the ceiling. They signalled to each other, if only they could move they would still manage to save themselves. Their feet were free. They were sailing past the chandeliers. If only they could somehow get their legs around it. They could then force the coffin down. If only they could move!
They forced their mind to be silent. Tears formed on their eyelids at the realisation that their father had gone quiet. They knew he was dead. Or was he? The voice screamed into their ear, "Well how does that grab you snot? Your father is dead and now you are all by yourself."
They had no idea what she was talking about. They had each other. They were not alone. Neither of them would ever be alone. Not whilst they had each other.
The wind slammed into the side of the coffin. It started showing off how good it was at playing the death march. It pushed the coffin up against the ceiling to the beat of its music. The two wished they could tell it to stop. They knew they were about to lose their lunch when they felt their stomach turned. When they opened their mouth the blood squirted everywhere at first and then stopped. They gratefully closed their mouth. Something was pushing against the inside of their lips and forced them apart. All they could do was keep their lips apart as hundreds of small fish swam out of it. The head with the empty eye sockets laughed hysterically.
The white walls and white floors hurt his eyes as he opened them. Three people stood at the end of his bed. Well, he had no idea whose bed it was but because he was already in it he reckoned the owner would not mind if he claimed it as his own.
Another woman stood next to the bed holding his hand. She kissed him on the forehead before announcing to the world that he was awake. A door opened and a man in a white coat walked towards him. He started screaming. The three people at the end of the bed pushed down on him. The man in the white coat took his hand and inserted a needle into the tube he could see. The woman next to him gently rubbed his head, "That's the good boy. That's right, go back to sleep dearest." Oh Christmas Father, he knew that voice!
He had not quite drifted off when he heard the man in the white coat say to everyone there, "He was the only surviving member of that plane crash up in the mountains. How he survived is a miracle. The plane was forced down by the hurricane. You should have seen the inside. It was covered in blood. He was found holding onto his dead twin brother. His rescuers said he was talking to the boy as if he was still alive."
The woman who held his hand started crying, "I know them. They were my neighbours. He has no other family. The social worker said I should apply to adopt him. She said it would be good for him to return to a familiar environment. He will have all his friends around him. They all know he will now be living across the road at number three."
The boy opened his eyes and screamed, "No! She is going to kill me! Her head is sitting on her coffin!"

Written by Annie J. Penn
February 2014.