Arrow House was engulfed in a penetratingly melancholy presence, one that felt as though the atmosphere inhaled deep into the shallowly expanded nature of your burning lungs, was tainted by that of ashen storm clouds. No longer looming above your slowly walking frame with the intimidation of impending descent, but rather falling and enveloping every inch of the air, until not a single crevice of the house was left unscathed by it's suffocating touch.
A thick fog had rolled out across the landscape, for peering out the windows that were streaked with the depressive drizzle that ran down the glass like running teardrops, it appeared as though a blanket of smoke had all but gone and immersed the pastures. Leaving only the sight of the very edge of the driveway up visible, as anything past was left blurred and lost to the fog that rolled on as though the strong breath blown by God above.
Amidst the coverage of a haze that could nearly steal away that of a human soul and no one would be the wiser, the rainfall had tampered. Continuing to trail down the window panes, leaving you to wonder if the droplets on a race to nowhere, could ever be erased from the glass or if they might just imprint their presence and leave something as pure as a window, tainted and scarred with the memory of their somber existence.
For the sky cried unconsolably that morning, as though the heavens opened up and tears leaked down from the melancholy clouds, as they suddenly held a soul they simply didn't want. It was a vengeful rain, for as it fell in deceptively calm streams, the second those droplets soaked with the salt of angels tears touched upon exposed flesh, it felt like acid raining down. Penetrating and burning with a force that nearly brought you to your knees, as you stood withstanding the pain, beneath a sky that churned a dark and depressive grey, as though the very soul of the Earth was stolen.
Despite the way the rain felt as though it could burn right through about any surface it dared to touch, it appeared as though it never managed to touch the land beneath your feet that morning. For the ground, in the beginning stages of being warmed by the fresh spring air, was still as frozen as if inches of frigid snow remained piled upon it's grass. You could still hear the resounding chipping of the shovels, picking away at the ground with all of the might the men digging the hole had, for it was like the Earth itself contested the incoming presence soon to be laid to rest. Rejecting it as the young soul had no right to be buried there, buried at all.
You'd begged your husband that you bury her, that she be buried in the ground deep enough for God to find her innocent soul and raise her up to the heavens. For she was far too young, far too gentle, far too innocent to leave this world in a trail of smoke and fire. No matter the amount of gypsy blood that she'd shared from her parentage. She deserved the Earth and a stone with her name, marking where she lay in peace and serenity, something that the souls continuing to walk the bloody streets could never willingly find. Somewhere you could place flowers beside her name etched in stone, like the ones she'd plucked petals from in the garden behind the house. A resting sight that young Charlie could visit, making certain that he would never forget the sister, that even as he shared only by half his blood, would forever be a part of his life.
For he'd stood right beside you, with the hand of his father resting upon his shoulder that was draped in the nicest funeral suit. One in which you wished was unable to come in a size that small. And through the sheen of your own endless flood of tears, you glanced over at him once during the ceremony, to witness him clutching her favorite teddy close to his chest, as though he could still very well feel her presence looming above him.
Your heels echoed down the corridors, as you strolled in leisurely steps, for it felt as though you walked through the very haze that engulfed the countryside. Your mind had escaped you, or perhaps it was that the core of your beating heart had slipped from your chest and fallen into the ground right alongside her, before the first shovel full of dirt was tossed back down into her grave.
