The Daughter Of Illéa

Chapter 68

The day Charleston got off the plane to return home, I intended on visiting her in Kent. Just not in this way.

Kent was an industrial province. Buildings lined the streets, along with techs and college billboards. Kent was the home of those witty; the district of school, education, and law. Maybe that's why she fit here so well, because of her consistent love of learning.

As the slim black limo we were provided with road in the early morning blues, it's until we reach the outskirts of the city that we see trees and real grass. She was always fond of the gardens so it was no doubt that she found her heart...her home in the midst of the country.

It was a beautiful home, short in height and long in width, almost like the palace, but ingredients for the production were more natural then mechanical. The frame was wooden, red shingles, and crystal like windows. It was nice to see the home she grew up in. The inside was also beautiful, the walls framed with pictures of the three person family. I seen one photo of Charleston when she was young, her mother on her left, and her on her right. It was hard to look up from the photo, because all I would see was short, hourglass, red-headed figure, and a tall thin man with jet black hair and thin glasses, but not a lady in between.

The funeral was just as depressing.
Many of Kent sat in rows, their heads cowered and dosed in black. The royals and the fairly few of selected sat in the body of the seats. Before us laid on a bed of soil, was a white casket with the flowers rested on top, next to a recently framed photograph on Charleston.
After the priest finished up his blessings of her death, he called upon a few, one being me.

"Hello..." The tears haven't arrived yet. They were implanted in my carpet and bed placings back at the palace, but by what I prepared, I knew they were coming soon.
"...most of you know me. If not, I'm Delilah." The words I sobbed through and trained myself to memorize had began to jumble in my brain as the words became inaudible. I dug my hand into the breast pocket of my long black lace gown, and pulled a wrinkled sheet of paper out. It was blotched with black splotches and tear stains. Then, I began reading my written speech.

"It's alright...statically 1/10 flights fail, and usually it's because they flew over an attack hazard and one of the bullets blew out the engine. However, that's rare now...we have better built planes." Just thinking about it bringing the warm anguish to my eyes.

"That's the first thing Charleston Katie Tonks said to me." I whispered into the microphone.

"That day I gained more then a flight statistic...I gained a friend...my very first to be specific." I look down, my tears dropping on the paper slowly, speeding at every given second.

"She aimed high...I think that's safe to say. Higher then intended." I look at Officer Feldspar and then her broken down mother. I wanted this to end.
This hurt feeling in my chest. It was worse then a knife, which at the moment I preferred.

"'Goodbye?' Was the last words she said to me, as mine were to her, 'No...see you later.'" I look around and then folded my paper back up.
"Let's not say goodbye," I continued. "Just see you later."

I wanted to stay standing by her one last time. I wanted to be with her and to gossip about Pipers pregnancy and Genevieve's jail time. I wanted my best friend.

Moments later after dragging myself away from the podium, Officer Feldspar came up to speak the Eulogy.
"Our relationship wasn't long..." He began, alligator tears leaving the slits of his eyes. "In fact, it was short. However, out of every love story," he looked at the grave. "Ours were my favorite."

I sobbed. This abnormal sound blurted from my throat, but I wasn't the only one. Everyone was at the breaking point as well.

"You taught me love...and that even through my five years in war, that love was the cure to it all...to my sanity."

It was in that moment everyone was aware of it. He wasn't acknowledging us. He wasn't giving the proposed Eulogy. He was talking to her, praying on the inside she could hear. He was giving her the vows she could never hear.

"I am in love you..." He cried. "...and I will. Death due us part is a false statement, because I will never be away from you again. I will always be with you, Char. Always."

***

The funeral ended moments after they helped his destructed figure away from the crowd. However, I didn't stay and eat down stairs with the rest of the sane.

Somewhere in between my sad thoughts and love song lyrics that Feldspar played perfectly, I found myself on the second floor of the Tonks household.

There was three rooms. One a restroom, the other a guest room, and the last one on the right...her room.

Willow was right when she claimed me nosey, but I consider it more as grief. I nudged open the white door and found the room laminated and warm.

I stepped in. The walls were placed with academic awards and the desk was stacked in scholarships. So much she could have done with herself. On the bed, the green blankets lay pulled open like they had when she last used them. Her dirty clothes laid untouched in the corner...on a board next to a window, was pinned pictures.
Feldspar and her cheesing in front of the camera, and some her dog and fellow family members. Some were from the palace...like the sleepover. A picture of her and I tacked in the center, with the marker medium bottom saying: "Delilah and I."
Her writing; cursive and beautiful. Oh, how she could've used it in another beautiful paper instead of writing me back.

"I come in here often too."

As my eyes flick to the reflection, I see her mother Flora Tonks in the doorway. I turn and for once I realize the woman's age. The woman in the pictures was obviously instinct. She once had enriched red hair and a vibrant smile...not anymore. Gray strands of hair and aging wrinkles.

"I'm sorry for intru-"
"Don't bother." She forced a smile, not wanting to touch much.
"You know, I thought about washing her clothes." She admitted to the clothes in the corner. "And folding them up and placing them on her bed...however I knew that even when I threaten her to put them up...she never will." She sniffled.

The words came close to wounding me, my heart ripping at her mothers pain and resentment of her only child's death.

"All those dang schools..." Even though she looked away, I could see the tears finding it's way into her lips, in which she finally wipes them away.

"...and books." And sure enough a book case took up a quarter of wall.
"You know most wouldn't believe me when I'd say she'd stay up until four o'clock in the morning with her nose in the novel." She laughed lightly, remembering the memory. "Maybe that's why I left the book there...in hope that when I wake up to check on her, she'd be in there finishing it." She choked.

"And those pictures-"

I couldn't let her finish. It wasn't human to stand by and witness such a hurt and grieving heart, beating her against the chest like a mallet. I ran into her like a wrecking ball, embracing her and it didn't take her a minute to hesitate or to debate in her mind. At the seconds notice, my arm was wet with salty stains and black mascara.

"sh-she's here...just, not in the way we intended." I whisper in her ear. "Because those laid back covers are her, and so is that medallion she won, and the same for the fifty scholarships and the light lingering in here...she's here. She's here to stay."

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I cried.
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Prepare for drama.