The king of everything

Chapter Twenty seven- The Burial

The day of the funeral arrived quicker than I thought it would, though it felt like I had been holding my breath ever since my dad passed. Everything had been a blur since that night in the hospital—the arrangements, the phone calls, the quiet condolences from friends and family who didn't know what to say. I barely knew what to say either.

The sky was overcast, a dull gray blanket hanging low over the cemetery as if the world itself was in mourning. I stood there, dressed in a black suit I hadn't worn in years, surrounded by faces I barely registered. The wind was cold, and it cut through the silence as the minister read from a small leather-bound Bible. His words were lost on me, though. I couldn't focus on anything except the wooden casket being lowered into the ground.

It didn't feel real.

My dad was in there, just feet away from me, but it was as if he had already drifted into another world—one I wasn't a part of. A numbness had settled in my chest, blocking the tears, the anger, and the sadness that I knew would come later. I was just... empty.

Mom stood beside me, her hand gripping mine tightly, and I could feel her shaking, but she didn't cry either. We had cried enough over the past few days. There were no more tears left to shed, just a hollow ache that seemed to stretch on forever.

The funeral ended quicker than it began. People I hadn't seen in years approached me, offering words of comfort, their voices blending together into a low hum. I smiled when I needed to, nodded at their condolences, but I wasn't really there. My mind was still at the graveside, imagining my dad lying there, surrounded by darkness.

After a while, I excused myself, stepping away from the crowd that had gathered around my mom. I needed air, space, anything to clear my head. I walked to the edge of the cemetery, pulling out my phone. I stared at it for a moment, my fingers hovering over the screen before I finally dialed Hope's number.

She picked up on the second ring.

"Aaron?" Her voice was soft, filled with concern, as if she already knew something was wrong.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "Hey, Hope. I... I just wanted to tell you. My dad passed away."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and I could hear her take a deep breath. "I'm so sorry, Aaron," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I can't imagine how hard this must be for you."

"Yeah," I said, my voice barely audible. "It's... it's hard."

I didn't know what else to say. The words felt heavy, as if speaking them out loud made everything more real.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently.

"I don't know," I admitted. "I've been sitting here, watching them bury him, and it still doesn't feel real. Like I'm waiting to wake up from some nightmare."

"I wish I could be there with you," Hope said softly. "But I'm here for you, Aaron. Anytime you need to talk, I'm just a phone call away."

Her words were comforting, but they also reminded me of how far away I felt from everything—school, friends, my old life. It felt like I had been separated from the world, drifting in some limbo where nothing made sense.

"I'll be back soon," I said quietly. "To school, I mean. I've got to make up my exams. The professors have agreed to let me take them later, so I'll be back next week."

"You don't have to rush, Aaron," Hope replied. "Take the time you need to grieve."

"I know, but I can't stay here forever," I said, running a hand through my hair. "I need to get back to normal, whatever that means now."