Number 3 Is Dead

He is dead. Number 3 is dead. We are asked by mother if we want to go and see him in the coffin. I say yes.
I want to make sure he is dead.
It is really creepy at the undertakers. Number 3’s sister is there having travelled down from Essex. She is really crying and wailing, she is hanging on to the open coffin and she keeps throwing her upper body across it which makes the coffin shake. In my head I imagine that she will pull the coffin over and that number 3 will fall out onto the floor. I wonder to myself if I will laugh out loud if this does happen. But it does not, and so I just stand staring at number 3. He really is dead. Number 3 is dead.
There is a lot of tension at the funeral as number 3’s ex wife has turned up, and even though she is standing discreetly at the back of the church mother is not pleased with this.
In the evening it hits me. I have seen a dead body. The dead body is number 3. At bedtime I am frightened as I think the ghost of number 3 will come and get me whilst I’m sleeping. I wonder if my brother and sister are also frightened as they have said nothing. I want mother to stay with us but she does not because there is someone knocking on the front door. Mother goes to answer it, it is the Life Insurance man, and mother gets her coat and goes out with him to the pub. I lay in bed wondering how she can leave us alone at a time like this. But my mind is clouded by thoughts of a ghostly number 3 and so I cover myself completely with the duvet and remind myself that this time number 3 has really gone. Number 3 is dead.