**~VoxVocis~** - Chapter One, Part One

by Lucky in the bathroom. You gotta go when you gotta go! :P

A/N: THIS IS FOR L.S., DRAGONWRITER, KYLE, SIS, and other people! :D Thanks! Please comment! Enjoy! And sorry, I don't really like this chapter, but the purpose of this is to explain...stuff...Enjoy! I will probably edit it soon.

Chapter One: The Funeral

Three years later...

"GAYLE! COME DOWN HERE!"

I was too absorbed in my book to notice my mom screaming my name from downstairs. I kept my grip tight on the small, seventy-five cent paperback I got at a garage sale; it was called The Shirley Temple Murder by Caroline Camerson.

"Dylan didn't know whether to get help or to keep running forward. The murderous James was tailing him, his bland plaid blue shirt stained with dried blood. I have to save Jackie, Dylan thought quickly as he almost slipped on an unnoticeable mud puddle." I shifted my feet on the cotton blanket on my bed. I was wearing a black mini-dress with my brand new green Converse on.

Okay, it’s not the perfect apparel for a funeral, but I didn’t even know the woman. Just yesterday, the simple scene started:

The fan was on in the kitchen, but even then Mom was wiping beads of sweat off of her forehead. “Gayle,” she panted because of the heat. “Tomorrow we’re going to…*wheeze* your dad’s sister’s *cough, sputter* funeral tomorrow, your aunt Molly. God, I gotta turn on the air conditioner…”

I forgot if I nodded or didn’t even listen, because I was studying my trial outfit to show mom, the clothes for my Cousin Jenna’s 15^th birthday party (a pretty black t-shirt, skinny jeans, and Gladiator shoes). I paused, holding up a t-shirt. “Mom, that’s tomorrow. How can we go to her party?”

Mom frowned. “I don’t know, I don’t even think they’re having the party anymore! Just bring her present to the funeral tomorrow.” End of scene.

“GAYLE!” my mom screamed once again. “We’re leaving WITHOUT you!” I rolled my eyes; I t was her usual cliché line—‘We’re leaving without you!’ ‘We’re eating without you!’ ‘We’re ____________ without you!’ or, her favorite, ‘We’re going out without you!’ Ever since my two-year older sister died three years ago because of her deadly brain cancer, her name was Michelle, my mom and dad were absolutely itching to get closer to each other, trying to get me another sibling. I really hope it’s another sister, because I definitely don’t want—God forbid—a brother.

I slipped my cheap purple bookmark into my page and placed it into my ‘handbag’ that my mom begged for me to use, along with some more junk: makeup, a pack of 5 gum, a random pocketbook I managed to grab that contained a special-looking gold pen in its spiral, and my Blackberry cell phone.

I trudged dramatically down the curvy, cherry wood stairs to encounter my mom in a floral pink dress with her white pumps and my dad in a tux.

“Gayle, we are almost late. We have to get there early for the burial at least. It’s almost 8, the burial starts in thirty minutes,” my dad explained calmly but darkly. My mom had an almost identical expression on her face—calm but dead serious. She nodded in agreement. I frowned. “Um, isn’t the burial IN the funeral? I mean, I thought they were the same thing; the funeral is the burying of her.”

Dad uncomfortably shifted his tie and brushed off some non-existing dirt off of his tuxedo. “W-well, Gayle, your Aunt Molly has the exact words in her will. She wants the funeral as the preacher just reading her favorite part of the Bible and the reading of her last will and testament, then after the funeral is the burial of her. That’s what it said.” I didn’t really get it. He looked at his watch. “It’s already 8:15. We’re gonna be late, and the Parkinfrank Mortuary starts the funeral at 8:30.”

We stumbled out the door and got into my dad’s Ford Fiesta. My mom muttered something under her breath and my dad started the car after a few tries (there was something wrong with the carburetor or the engine or something). I pulled out The Shirley Temple Murder again and started to read with a soft whispering voice.

“’I’m gonna kill you, Dylan!’ screeched James, who was struggling to get his foot out of the sticky abhorrent mud. ‘You’re gonna die like all your family, and soon Jackie will join you!’ He pulled out his gun, which he hadn’t decided to use until Dylan was close. But he had no choice. He rested his forefinger on the trigger and slowly, slowly pulled, until…”

*Yawn.* What did I miss? Kevin asked. I closed my eyes. Nothing much, I thought. James is about to kill Dylan and we’re on the way to the funeral.

This part may be a bit confuzzling to you, so just let me explain. Kevin is 13, like moi, and he’s a guy, unlike moi. He’s inside my head, so I could only hear him, but from what he described, he has dirty-ish blonde hair and brown eyes. Three years ago he popped into my head. I got nauseous and threw up a couple of times, then put ice on it to relieve the recurring pain on my head.

That’s Kevin for you. He makes you hurt.

Whenever Kevin talks, it feels like a hollow echo in your head. You could hear it clearly as if the voice was from the back of your eyes.

I don’t care about that book—I mean that I sort of heard you and your mom arguing. What’s up with that? Kevin inquired.

Gosh, Kev. You’re so nosy, I thought to Kevin.

I’m just asking!

Ok, whatever. Jenna’s party’s cancelled because of the funeral today. Bummer, isn’t it?

What are you gonna get her?

I already got her an iTunes gift card.

How much?

One hundred, Mr. Inquisitive!

…*silence* Okay. For my birthday I’d like a fifty dollar gift card to Best Buy, please.

Your birthday’s in two months, and plus, there’s no possible way I could even give you a gift card. There’s no possible way you could spend it.

Yeah, there is.

Okay, is this what you’re thinking of? I roll the gift card and stick it in my ear. After you unwrap your card then I’ll take you to Best Buy. ‘Hello,’ the guy says. ‘Welcome to Best Buy!’ You pick out some stuff and we take it to the cash register. ‘That’ll be $48.67, please!’ the lady says. I take out the gift card from my ear and hand it to her, saying, ‘Kevin, the voice in my mind, would like to pay with this.’ Then she’ll accept, we go home and listen to all the CD’s and watch all the movies. The end.

Why would you stick my gift card in your ear?

Duh, to get it to you!

There’s—

“We’re here,” Mom murmured. I looked outside; the sky was a glooming gray, but when I opened the door and stepped outside, it was very humid. My hair felt messy and I felt just awful for some reason.

People were scattered around outside of the chapel. My cousin Carlon, who was a year younger than me and super (no offense…) dumb, was uncomfortably slicking back his greasy black hair because of the humidity.

“Hi Gayle…” he said, smoothing his locks. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

I frowned and stared at him. “Carlon, Aunt Molly’s your aunt too,” I remarked suspiciously. “My dad is your dad’s brother, and both of our dads were the brothers of Dear Departed Molly.”

Carlon laughed nervously. “Right,” he shouted, and ran to the group of six kids: Messiah, 7; Janine, 10; Jillian, 9; Jesse, 11; Sammi, 11; and Marco, 6.

The chapel bell chimed—a long bell that announced the beginning of the funeral. Several adults gathered the children and led them inside. Me, I just walked inside by myself. Having Converse instead of hard-to-walk-or-run-in high heels was an instant up.

A/N again: Sorry for the sudden stop! I'll post more tomorrow! Thanks for reading and please leave a comment/feedback/constructive critisizm! Thanks and byee!