Crystalline light floated through the closed windows into
the doleful room. It was, like it usually is, a cold
November day, although it wasn't raining. At least we have
that, most of the people inside were thinking to themselves,
probably unaware everyone else thought the same thing. They
were all certain the rest of their peers had the same thing
on their mind, the reason they all attended the melancholy
event. It was a funeral. A funeral following the surprising
death of a person they all knew, Abe. A person they all
shared experiences with, at some point or another in the
last year and a half; colleagues from work, fellow officers
and serving men and women from his time in the army corps,
family and hometown friends. There were many of them, and
that was also surprising.

The death was a sudden one, and people did not understand
it. Abe chose to commit suicide, for reasons no one could
fathom. Press, police and therapists all over the place
assumed what they always did - inner turmoil of a man barely
out of his teen years. He was almost 22 when he perished.
All that is the reason the death was surprising. The many
attendants mostly did not know each other. They were all
people with whom Abe had some contact with, but not between
themselves, in their different categories. His work peers
have never been to his house, or even neighborhood. His
close friends did not know his army colleagues. Abe was a
quiet person, quiet and shy. He didn't seem that way to
people, because they remembered him as a smart, sometimes
witty person whom they did not suffer to be around.

"Abe and I talked sometimes", said Al, a close friend of Abe
since kindergarten. He was a bit short, with messy black
hair and wearing relatively less baggy clothes than he
usually had. "He liked talking about things like life and
the reason of things in it - Philosophic guy". He paused for
a moment, thinking of how to phrase the next memento, "This
one time I asked him why he talked so little. He answered,
'Because talking too much might make me less interesting,
you know, mysterious. This way people might want to get to
know me without me pushing myself over them', and I don't
really know whether that worked. "Cause like, most of us
still know very little of him. What he felt at certain
moments when he did not speak, what he had for romantic
relationships, and so on". People nodded, quite on the
agreeing side.

Shrieking wind outside made the old hall's windows rattle a
bit, some even vibrating loudly. All the shades were
half-drawn, out of respect for the occasion. Little light
flowed inside, causing shadows to ripple across the pure
white walls and ceiling. The eulogy wasn't a long one, for
indeed there was not much to say. Condolences were given to
the parents with the usual grieving yet judgmental tone
reserved for those who have taken their own life. The holy
place's attendant thanked the comers as the ceremony was
about its end. A group of people sat around a table in the
corner, discussing the events.
"Can you believe this?" Said a blond girl, Sarah, "I never
thought he was...", "Suicide material?" Finished Daniel, the
hard edged one. They were both colleagues from work, neither
a close friend of his. "'Course not, Sari. You never know
with these kinds of people", he said in a serious tone,
which followed by feeling-filled frowns from around the
table. No one disliked Abe. Daniel looked down for a moment,
not really abashed but he wouldn't want anyone to think him
a monster or something. "He did always look - when he wasn't
talking to anyone, you know? - depressed", said one Glenn, a
tall girl with smooth black hair and big brown eyes. "Always
claimed that's what his face looked like". The statement was
followed by a sad giggle. "Or that his contact lenses made
his eyes dry. I knew he was hiding it, he really did have
problems he didn't want anyone to know". This time Daniel's
statement was followed by a quiet grunt of approval from
most of the table sharers. "Guess we'll never know, huh"
Said a girl with long, curly black hair who did not wear
black as she did not believe in 'following the herd' method.
She did wear dark brown clothes, as not to appear too
disrespectful.

The last eulogy was the priest's. He read a short prayer
from a book he had in front of him, and then spoke. "Abe
left us all, by his own choosing, indeed, but let us not
remember him as a quitter" By stating that, the priest only
made everyone think of the deceased as one. "People have
problems, and sometimes they choose to ignore society's help
offers, as many as they may seem", the criticizing tone
could not be overheard. Society nowadays does not accept
suicide as a means of escape. Perhaps it is true that it is
cowardly, but most people in this century, and probably the
next one, will all face some such occasion on which they
believe that there is no way forward, that life cannot be
lived the way it left you - stranded on a lonely road, the
edge of oblivion on one side, a big ugly cliff wall on the
other and a big brick wall on the front. People who have
lost their families often come to this crossroad of doom.
But as is the way of society to generally criticize its
members individually. Who knows what ailed Abe, and why he
thought no one could offer anything but more misery and
words, instead of the actions he needed?

But they knew then.

While the priest gave his speech, a thud echoed behind
everyone, as the large doors opened. Someone who looked like
Abe walked in.

"Hi, everyone, wow, what a nice turn-out", he said with a
tint of sarcasm. Everyone gaped, eyes and mouths open. They
couldn't wipe out the 'what the hell?!' off their faces.

"Guess what, I didn't kill myself. Nope, I'm here, flesh and
blood". He poured himself some of the drink offered at a
nearby desk. "It was an illusion. I learned that a while
ago, while most of you spent time planning things without
including me". Impossibly, everyone's eyes and mouths seemed
to widen a bit more at that. "I just wanted to see what
happened, who actually cared. When I died, I mean", he
paused to take a sip, "I guess a lot of you did. Hypocrites.
Show up to my funeral, will you, when you never wanted me to
show up in any of your events. Was I this quiet? This
ignorable?" he took another sip, "Guess not. Well, I'll just
leave now, for all of you to wonder, and know what really
made me quiet all this time, can you guess?", no one
answered, but some had the decency to close their mouths.
"No? Fine." It was anger, at you. Now I'll really go, 'cause
I seem to be intruding on yet another party I shouldn't have
been in". He finished the rest of his drink, put the glass
on a counter and left. "Bye". The doors thudded yet again.

It seemed, then like so many things came clear at once.
However, the next moment the priest closed the funeral book
he had, and left. Once he left, it really did became 'yet
another party'. No one seemed to want to investigate. They
closed the remaining open mouths, returned their eyes to
normal slits and went back to drinking and talking.

But they weren't talking about Abe anymore