And You Became A Memory

Chapter 1

Ethan, you always used to say you hated funerals. You found the whole spectacle hypocritical. You couldn't stand the idea of people suddenly showing love and care for someone they barely acknowledged in life. And now, here we are, amid your own funeral. It's ironic, isn't it? I never shared your disdain for funerals, but I'm starting to see your point now.

It feels like being thrust onto a stage with a script I never agreed to. The curtains rise on tragedy, and I'm expected to play my part in a scene I never practiced before.

I never wanted to be here, Ethan. I never wanted this somber event to become our reality. I never wanted this funeral to happen in the first place.

But you're truly gone Ethan, and this is happening, your funeral...it's happening. This all is real. And here I am trapped in this extravagant sacred hall, surrounded by a sea of mournful faces with their heads bowed, like actors in a play of grief. I see pity in their eyes, not empathy.

I remember the last time I felt this lost, this broken. It was after I left, or more like was forced to leave, my everything. But then, I came to you, and you became my new everything. And now, once again, I've lost it all. Where do I go from here, Ethan?

My gaze shifts to the statue of Veridion, perched in the center, high on a pedestal, the so-called Almighty, supposedly the giver of happiness, prosperity, and love. Yet, here lies my happiness, my prosperity, and the love I thought would endure a lifetime in the casket beneath the watchful eyes of the deity.

You're in there, Ethan... lifeless.

The priest's voice cut through the silence, shattering the stillness that hung in the air. "Beloved children of Veridion, we gather here today in the shadow of loss, seeking understanding in the face of the inexplicable. Our hearts ache, burdened by the weight of separation, as we lay to rest a soul dear to us. Let us find solace in the knowledge that the soul embarks on a new journey, guided by Veridion's divine plan."

But what about the life we had planned? What about the love we were living?

Does his divine plan know the weight of dreams shattered in an instant? Does it understand the hollow ache of staring into the lifeless eyes of the one you planned forever with?

I wonder if Veridion's grand design accounts for the agony of dressing the body you once held so close...for its funeral.

I turned my gaze towards Mrs. Brown, your mom. Her eyes, swollen with tears, were fixated on you resting in that casket. She clung to the priest's words and sought refuge in the stoic gaze of the god statue towering above us.

But what about me, Ethan? How am I supposed to find solace in anything? When my solace was you.

The priest's words, the god's silent watch - they offer no comfort when I have already lost my comfort... you. I've lost you, Ethan. And nothing can offer me comfort now. Nothing.

It's like they're speaking a language I can't understand, an alien tongue that fails to fill the void left by you. Or maybe because I don't want to understand.

Your laughter, your warmth, and the promise of a shared future were the things that created my world, Ethan. How can anything...any word fill that void?

The priest's words hang in the air, casting a weight on the somber atmosphere. "Who will do the last thread prayer?" he asks.

The first thread prayer is done by a mother after a baby's birth, to knit the soul's bond in this world. The second, by a life partner, weaving two souls together. And now, this is the last thread prayer, the one to set your soul free from this realm.

Surprisingly, Mrs. Brown places her hand on my shoulder, her features carrying the weight of a grieving mother. In her eyes, I see a mix of empathy and profound sorrow. Her lips part, and her words tremble as she says, "You do it... It's your right."