"Roy, my family isn't exactly conventional."

Sparrow had gone to sign papers at the funeral home, insisting she go alone; she didn't want to break down in front of a stranger.

MacKenzie had eventually dried her eyes, pulling herself together as her other cousin arrived home.

"Every person deals with grief and loss differently," Roy commented.

"That's not what I mean."

BANG BANG BANG.

"I FORGOT MY HOUSE KEY."

MacKenzie gave Roy a look. "That's Sparrow's brother."

"Timothy, yeah?" Roy asked.

MacKenzie quickly ran over to the front door, the knocking still frantically continuing. Immediately as she unlocked it a young man burst inside.

"I swear to fuck, the next time I'm invited to a baby shower the day after one of my parents die, I'm not going. Gawd."

Roy didn't get a good look at him, but he seemed to be younger than Sparrow, around his mid-twenties. He wore dark sunglasses and a pale blue shirt halfway buttoned, and far too tight.

"Timmy, wait," MacKenzie began as he was halfway up the grand staircase.

He stopped. "Oh. Kenzie. Lovely to see you here today."

"I didn't get Sparrow's message. I-"

"Who has the nerve, in their right mind, to invite your coworker to your fucking baby shower the day after their mother dies?"

He didn't seem upset, although Roy couldn't see him from the living room. He seemed more irked if anything. He couldn't hear grief in his voice.

"I don't know, Timothy; someone who's looking out for you, maybe?"

"Oh, please. It's been six years since she got sick. I'm glad we don't have to keep her around any longer."

MacKenzie quickly turned away and returned to Roy.

"Just like my uncle," she shook her head in disgust.

"Unconventional family?" MacKenzie was visibly upset. Roy took her hand. "Hey it's gonna be different for awhile."

"No that's the problem it's always like this."

MacKenzie ran back to the foyer and yelled upstairs: "OKAY YOU'RE NOT GONNA SAY HELLO TO MY BOYFRIEND? THAT'S NICE."

"FUCK OFF, MACKENZIE, I'M NOT GOING TO YOUR FUCKING BABY SHOWER."

"Sparrow seems nice," Roy smiled. "Timothy is...he's grieving, yeah."

"God, this funeral is going to be a disaster," MacKenzie began to cry.

"Hey...shsh, now. We made it here in one piece, right? Your family needed you, and you're here now." Roy frowned. "I couldn't say goodbye to Dahlia, either."

MacKenzie nodded. "We're staying in the guest bedroom. I'm not talking to nobody."

It was a continuation of the vaulted ceiling and hardwood floor. The curtains were ivory, and didn't quite match the peach bedspread and sheets. Dust covered the armoire, and years old bottles of brandy were carelessly thrown under the bed in haste.

Roy admired MacKenzie's figure as she dressed into a silk nightgown and wiped her lipstick on the back of her hand. Every movement was continuous, not thought of, but not nearly as mechanical as Roy would have thought of.

She crawled into bed next to Roy, but didn't face him this time. He was used to her entwining her body with his, and nuzzling her head in the crook of his elbow.

"I feel so sick," she said softly.

Roy turned over to his side and put his arm around her. She breathed heavily, and brought her hand up to his.

"I love you," Roy whispered.

"I know."

*

He walks down an empty hallway, the only sound being his footsteps on the rickety floorboards. The smell of incense follows him, but he pays no heed. He follows only one sound: the cries of an infant.

He seems to circle endlessly in the many corridors, rooms locked or boarded, and with an overwhelming feeling of dread begins to run.

A red door with a single candle omitting light comes into view, and his steps become heavier as he approaches it.

With one swift kick to the lock the door breaks open, and he sees the elaborate carvings around a confessional booth.

He opens the door to the sound of a soft groan, and screams in astonishment as a mummified body in priest garb falls to his feet. A hiss escapes from his withered lips.

Still the sound of the baby continues.

A narrowing of the darkened room past the confessional holds an oblong box. He approaches it slowly, and horror fills his body. He cannot bring himself to wait to open the box, and swings it open at full force.

A deceased infant with milky eyes stares back at him, in the clutch of a woman who could only be Dahlia.

*

"Oh my god, Roy. Get up. We're gonna be late."

Roy opened his eyes suddenly to see MacKenzie already dressed and fixing an earring.

"Was I..."

"I've been trying to wake you up for the past twelve minutes. Come on. You packed something black, right?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Timothy and Sparrow left this morning."

"What time is it?"

"Almost four thirty."

"Oh..."

Roy rubbed his face and Dahlia threw a pair of pants onto his head.

"Hurry up."

MacKenzie insisted on driving; well, Roy had no idea where to go. The town itself wasn't big at all, and they technically could have walked to the church.

Roy was grateful of no stairs here. Everything was mostly flat.

What a great place to live.

The pews weren't filled as MacKenzie hastily made her way inside with Roy behind her. Sparrow and Timothy, a middle aged man presumably their father, and an elderly woman. Roy slowly got situated next to MacKenzie, who stared ahead at the casket with red puffy eyes.

Two unknown women then followed, wearing black veils, and immediately began sobbing as they sat behind MacKenzie and Roy.

"I wish my mom was here," MacKenzie said quietly.

"Where is she?"

"Haven't talked to her in awhile..."

The priest performed the funeral liturgy, and as Sparrow began to sob, MacKenzie let go of Roy's hand and put her arms around her. She had first looked uncomfortable when they entered the church but now, Roy noticed her clutching a rosary.

Been there, done that...

"We're not doing  a normal vigil service," MacKenzie told Roy as the mass ended.

"The wake, yeah?"

He couldn't believe MacKenzie's family had exited so quickly, and they were left alone with a coffin.

"It's like, uh, I mean you'll see."

Timothy returned through the side entrance to the church, strutting like a pigeon, with three other men.

"Donovan, come on. Pallbearer my ass."

"Hey do you mind if I..." Roy stopped himself.

"They're gonna bury her now," MacKenzie said quietly.

"Never mind."

"No, what."

"I was gonna pray for a bit."

"You're religious?"

"You're religious?"

"You didn't know her," MacKenzie said rising. "Go ahead. I'll meet you in the car in a bit."

"Where to?"

"Back to the house. Family dinner."

"Oh."

As Roy bowed his head in the house of god, he prayed to no one.