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Memory Burns	By : sickindulgence Category: +G through L > Invader Zim > AU/AR-Alternate Universe-Alternate Reality Views: 3210 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Invader Zim, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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It should have been raining.

Big pregnant drops of rain, falling, drenching everyone’s nice clothes, ruining expensive shoes and hats. He could imagine it easily. It was an overcast day, and no one he had seen had brought an umbrella or even any coats with hoods. Mud would begin to form, staining dresses and pants. If he was lucky, someone might slip and fall into a puddle of the stuff. Yes, it would be awful. Everyone would stand there, too uncomfortable to leave the funeral. Like sheep. Getting soaked because their moral code told them they had to stay.

He prayed for rain, for the clouds to open up. He imagined stepping out from the wall of family, friends, coworkers, colleagues, employees, people who read the obituaries and tilting his face up so the water could touch it, cleansing him as if he'd dived into the River Jordan.

"In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return."

Dib was glad he was at the front of the crowd. As the oldest child, it was his right, and he could not help but crack a grin at the intonation. He quickly coughed to cover it, forcing his face back to deadpan. The priest's words made a mockery of everything his father was, a man of science and logic. Now he was dead and buried (well, the coffin was being lowered just then anyway) and suddenly it was "Heaven this" and "Jesus that." Dib wished he could see the look on his father's face from such an affront.

His face had looked dead though. People always said, "they look peaceful" or "they look like they're sleeping." Not this time. Professor Membrane looked pale and shrunken, like somebody dumped him in salt and all his water was pulled out of him. Just like a tomato left on the counter too long. Maybe the mortician did a crappy job? Dib didn't know if he was supposed to tip the guy or not, because he hadn't. How much would you tip a mortician anyway? Dib tried to think of a plausible number. He wished he could ask Gaz, but she was being very quiet as Dib dropped some soil onto the coffin, now snugly in its plot that had been reserved for the Membranes since before Dib was born.

Afterwards, as they walked to their cars, he spoke.

"Gaz..."

"I don't want to talk right now."

"Alright. Soon then. Please? I mean, we have to get someone to clean out the house and sell it..."

"GOD." She pressed her palm to her eye. "He's just in the GROUND. I need some fucking TIME."

Dib stopped, sinking a bit into the grass. She kept walking.

"Okay. Okay, we'll wait." He took off his glasses, cleaning them. Replacing them, he sighed. Everyone was gone now except for the groundskeeper who was piling earth onto his father's corpse.

Dib remembered the day he found out his father had cancer. It was the same day he found out his father had died of a MRSA infection at the local hospital. The opportunistic infection had ravaged his body and blown past his decimated immune system. The bacteria feasted on his body, basically eating him alive. Cells to cells, dust to dust.

Dib found his car. He stepped into it, started it and sped away. The cancer though, that had been killing him for a long time, and was his true demise. His father had known about it for years. Probably at least before Dib had finished college. Neither of his children had been told. Dib gripped the steering wheel tightly, revving his engine at a red light. Membrane had not seen fit to leave a note or even a will. Of course, everything would go to them...but he had said no last words, written no memoirs.

"I can understand why you would leave me, Dad." Dib thought to himself. "But why Gaz? Nothing for her? She was closer to you than me..." The light turned green and he was off again.

Dib’s apartment was dark and cold when he returned. Flicking the lights, he went to his small kitchen, bare except for the essentials. Rummaging in his cabinets, he took out some peanut butter, honey, and white bread. With methodical precision, he spread the peanut butter on the bread, careful to make sure it reached evenly to the edge. The honey was in a squeeze bottle. On the peanut butter canvas, he drew two circular eyes, a U for a nose and a flat line for a mouth. Some ears and hair followed to fill out the rest, and he laid the other piece of bread on top. Slowly, he picked it off of his kitchen table. Something had started to grow inside him, something wet and horrible. He felt like his chest would burst just from looking at this sandwich, his favorite, made for him since he was a child. The sandwich started blurring, and a small sob escaped his throat.

"BASTARD!" He hucked the sandwich at his kitchen wall. It connected, slid down and fell apart on the linoleum floor. Dib walked over and stomped on it. "FUCKING BASTARD! WHY! WHY!" He kicked the shit out of it some more, but the sandwich was no longer distinguishable as a sandwich. Breathing hard, hands clenched, white knuckled, Dib left the sticky mess to rot on the wall and floor.

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Well, that’s the first chapter of my first fanfiction in a very long time. I hope everyone is enjoying it because I am having a blast writing it! If the feeling moves you, feel free to review as well. There is a lot more coming and most of it is already written so check back often. Also, I had some trouble finding a beta (lol at bounced emails) so if anyone is interested in reading the rest before anyone else gets to, shoot me a message and I’ll get back to you asap!
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Memory Burns