Fh1- Truth

Happy

Life, was never easy.

“Happy, check this folder. The organization sent this for you.” I took my black-rimmed spectacles out of my white Kate Spade purse and put it on my eyes to give myself a clear picture of what was displayed in front of me.

It was not as simple as what they seemed to be. Not as simple as living with black and white.

I heard a hysterical cry within the background while letting my jet-black hair cascades down to the crevices of my fair neck that was exposed because of my dark tube top. I gently move my fingertips over one of the paintings that called my attention; focusing on its details without removing my whole attention from the lines that were being delivered by a speaker.

It was either good or bad.

In comparison with the other paintings within the folder, it was the only painting that was vibrant and lively. It screams something that I can’t explain. Hence, despite of its vibrancy it emits a subduing feeling in my insides. It was too good to the point that I felt bad because of its goodness.

No grays. No hues.

“Happy, make sure that you’ll be able to create a new masterpiece for this upcoming art convention which will be held at Paris. The organization also wants to see you by the end of this month.” My fingers which were gently caressing the smooth surface of the paper slowly sink in to its pigments.

Nothing in between.

“They also sent you this check for your outstanding performance this past few months. Aside from that, the higher ups mentioned that in regards to the favor that you were asking, it would only be approved if you accept their previous offer.” Withal, I crumpled the paper and prepared to throw it to his face but I got interrupted by woman’s voice.

“Thank you for being with us at this moment of time. I can’t seem to find the right words to express my gratitude to everyone of you since you decided to be with us and to be with my husband at his last moments to this wonderful world.  I am sorry if I can’t stop crying. You know that is hard for me to be separated with my husband.” She holds the microphone tightly while weeping like a seven-year-old child who lost her favorite teddy bear. She cried while trying to stop her tears from falling with the use of a familiar branded white handkerchief. After a few more dramatic scenes of her crying in front the casket of her late husband, a man walked to her and enveloped her into a warm hug.

A hug that are too far from a semblance of a normal mother and son embrace.

I don't know, but she does not deserve even a small amount of pity from me.

A moment later, she gently gave the microphone to the thin guy that hugged her. Based on my observations, our age gap might not be great. If I will calculate it, he might be in his mid-twenties like me but I’m probably a bit older. I assume that he is the death man’s son because he resembles the face of the man inside the coffin.  Aside from that, he has bloodshot eyes that might be caused by crying. Thus, there are no similarities with the man’s face and his mother’s face. She must be his step mother.

I can’t help but stifle my giggle while the thin looking guy strode to the front of the coffin.

"I love my father. He was a great father. He was my role model. My greatest ambition is to follow his footsteps. But, how can I do it now? He is already gone." he whispered on the microphone. I can't stop myself from smirking while looking at his puffy and pale face. His bruised hands shake.

Woah, amusing.

The smile plastered on my lips grew wider as I notice few scratches when he unconsciously  lifted up the ¾ sleeves of his black polo. Whispers of the guests echoed in my ears as they talk in approval about how good the dead man when he was alive. I cautiously tucked my black hair strands behind my ear as I grin from what I have heard.

"He sent me to a good university even though a writer doesn't make enough money. He's a respectable man and I knew that every one of you knows that too. I wish he will find happiness in heaven." he continued while letting his other hand to sneakily get something from his pocket and played with it using his wounded fingers. A white stick with a brownish top fell on the green grass. He was about to picked it up but his gestures easily captured the crying woman’s attention and stopped him from picking it up.

Cigarettes. Huh? I will not be surprised if he is also a drug addict and an alcoholic guy. I think my guess was right. I shook my head as a laugh in my head.

I really cannot find any pity within my heart. Funerals were certainly nothing but a show created to deceive people and to deceive yourself.

Truth must be told.

Funerals are just an event for those people who wants to speak greatly about a lifeless body lying in a cold coffin who could not even hear whatever they were saying. A soft melodious song started to play in the background as everyone prepares their farewell to the dead. Everyone stood up and gently put white roses over the black casket one by one.

It is really amusing to know why they were doing this kind of event.

"No! Don't bury him yet! I love you!" the wife wept, slightly bowing her head to hide her face behind her long blonde hair. She sobbed loudly but in a span of seconds, the sadness in her lips vanished. The small smile was obvious in her face. She smiled looking like she won the lottery.

"Dad! I'm sorry! I'm really sorry!" the son shouted while trying to reach his father's coffin which is slowly sinking into the dirt. He looks guilty but what is the use of it when it is too late and when it is fake.

For the family members, funerals are just the requirement before having the distribution of inheritance.

"He was an awesome writer. Too bad he's too kind and the heaven wants him already." a man said followed by some low chuckles from a group of people.

For some people, funerals are a place to commemorate for the dead even though you are not sincere.

"Happy."

"What?" I simply replied to Bob which is my foster parent. I gently wore my hoodie which was placed on my lap and took my pursed that was sitting beside me.

"Let's go." he said as he led the way through where our car was parked.

"How was it?" he asked while starting the engine of the car.

"Still nothing." I answered. I looked down and opened my white Chanel purse and searched for my compact mirror.

Before we could leave the place, a familiar siren echoed around the cemetery. Two police mobiles parked in front of our car which immediately brough out four armed policemen. I have bitten my lip as I watched the scene that was laid in front of me.

People make way for the policemen until they have reached the two people that were crying right before the grave of their deceased family member. The guests gasped and some whispered as they have heard the seven words that the police mumbled.

“You are arrested for murder, Mr. Yael Silva.”

"If you continue like this Happy the organization might dispose you. You have to find new inspirations and new subjects." he said as he starts the car.

I ignored him and took a glimpse at my face using the compact mirror. Then, I burst out laughing as I heard the desperate pleas of the woman. I put my compact mirror down and continued to laugh as I watched the other policeman handcuffed the woman earlier.

“I did not kill him. Don’t handcuff me please, Officer.”

“You are under arrest for being an accomplice of Mr. Yael Silva.”

The woman continuously begged to the police officers, but her cries were not heard as pleas. It was all noises that irritated people. Hence, for some it was a juicy gossip to remember.

“It was his son that killed him! I only helped him move his body, but I am telling you the truth when I said that I did not kill him. Believe me, please. Hear me out!”

Hear me out.

I stopped laughing when I heard that certain voice again.

"Are you even listening to me Happy?" he asked like a person who's about to lose his last string of patience.

"Like they can." I simply said while brushing my long black hair.

"You know that I'm not joking Happy!" he yelled. Did he think he can scare me with that?

"I'm also not joking. They won’t." I looked at his face through the rear-view mirror.

"You know that I'm just saying this because I care for you Happy." he whispered as he avoided looking through my eyes.

I simply stared at my hands and laughed in my head like I'm hearing the best joke of the year. I honestly knew why they are still keeping me and why he adopted me.

It was simply because of...

Money.

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