Graveside Manners

Prologue:When life was still normal insanity

Prologue

Sunshine rayed terrifically down on my mother's gardens. It lit up everything in its path, brightening even the shadowed corners as they meekly attempted to hide. A soft, cool breeze rustled the trees and caused them to sway in lazy content. Their wide canopies offering shelter from the blinding sun, as guests milled about, smiling politely and drinking bubbly, champagne from long, slim crystal glasses.

A small orchestra, playing one of my mother's favourite Operas, stood proudly in the late summer sun. Their instruments shining proudly and releasing soft, and serene tones that mixed favourably with the rustling wind and the accumulated whispering of our guests.

I approached one of my favourite spots, a canopy of trailing white roses, but don't linger when I spot a group of my friends from school standing there, laughing and sipping cool, fizzy lemonade out of the same crystal glassware. I moved faster, head down, hoping to avoid confrontation. As I passed, the laughter stopped to a standstill and the whispering started.

'....poor thing. Must be so devastated..'

'Do you see those bruises? And the cuts? Do you think....'

' Yeah, I heard about that, but did you...'

Always speculating. No one ever just asks. Especially not about the bruises. I think, it makes them nervous. Not even Grandmamma has asked. I know she wants too, but I can tell she doesn't know how to approach it.

Sighing to myself, I bring up my hand in an effort to avoid blinding myself from the sun, as I look up. Clear, blue sky. It figures.

The day I had to pretend bury my parents , is the first day all summer with perfect weather conditions. I wondered vaguely, if this was the universes way of having a laugh. If so, it really needs to go sort itself out. Go eat some carrots, or something. Read a book. I don't know.

'Chryssa!'

The sound of my name being called, forced me out of the weird path my mind was taking. Maybe I needed to go eat some carrots. I hate carrots, though. So , maybe I'll just have a banana. God. Now, I'm hungry.

'Chryssa, honey? Are you okay?'

It was Ms. Geayr. I turned to see her reach for me, then just stop her hand halfway, before lowering it. Awkward. She was watching me with so much concern, I felt I should be worried about something. She was a small woman, barely five foot five, but she was strong. She is the only one who can get me to eat a vegetable. Not even my mum could get me to eat a vegetable. Now she never could.

'Pet? Do you need to sit down? You look really pale.'

No. I did not need to sit down. I needed my mum. Except, how could I say that. It would be really unfair to her, who's done so much for me. I know she's worried. I know it. But I do not need to sit. I don't need a hand to hold. I don't need to talk about it.

What I probably need, is an open space and nothing but the Sound, I thought to myself. I mentally shook myself out of the direction my thoughts were taking, and tried to give her a reassuring smile. I shook my head no, when she uncertainly smiled back and offered once again , if she could get me something. I was half way to saying a polite negative, when I noted her shaking hands clasped together in front of her and the sadness and concern that came off her in waves, so I told her I wanted a banana sundae with pecans and hot chocolate fudge, but I was on strike against all fruit based deserts, so I asked if she could just have it on standby, for when I more than likely crumble and give in to its tasty goodness.

'Well, alright , dear. If you're sure.' She hovered, watching me for signs of any discomfort or a nervous breakdown.

'I'm fine, Mrs Geayr. You don't have to worry about me so much'