Rescue From The abyss

Chapter 7

"My life is like a fragile thread,

  each moment sewn, stitch by stitch,    

 until I weave my own coffin bed”

The rain falls softly, pattering against the dark wooden surface of Alex’s coffin as it stands under the canopy of a tent. The air is cold, heavy with a stillness that presses down on me from all sides.

The constant rhythm of water that has been present since the early morning. It was the kind of rain that dont rush or pound on the ground with fury—it simply lingered, casting a gray shroud over the world. The cemetery, nestled among old oak trees and rolling hills, feels like a place untouched by time. Dark clouds gathered overhead, their weight heavy, much like the grief that hung in the air.

 I couldn't move. I couldn’t speak. The weight of my grief pinned me to the earth, rooting me in place like the tall, old trees that surrounded the burial ground. My legs trembles beneath me, but I stand there, eyes locked on the coffin, as if I could see through it, as if I can will him to open his eyes, to wake up, to look at me one last time.

He isn’t gone. He couldn’t be gone. His body lay just a few feet in front of me, and yet it feel like he is a world away. A chasm has opened between us, and no matter how much I reached out in my mind, I can't touch him anymore.

Beside me, Ken shifted on his feet,bare unnoticeable. His arm brushing against mine. He hadn’t said much since the funeral started. He was worried. He had been worried since the moment we found out about Alex, and he hasn't left my side since. Ken is the same. Both of them has become pillars for me, grounding me in a reality that I am not ready to face.Neither of us has. Words feels useless, too small to fill the gaping hole he has left behind. I glanced at him, and our eyes met for a brief moment. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, the same as mine, swollen from too many tears. He is pale, his face drawn tight with grief. He gave me a small nod, but even that seemed like a monumental effort for him. We were both hollowed out, emptied by loss.

The crowd that has gathered for the funeral seemed endless—Alex’s family, relatives, and friends, all standing under a sea of black umbrellas. My family stands a few rows back, their eyes soft with sympathy, but even they cant breach the wall of silence I has built around myself. I am numb. The world has lost its color since his death, and I dont know how to bring it back.

The sound of soft sobs drifted toward us from Alex’s family. His mother standsd just a few feet away, supported by relatives as she leaned forward, her hand trembling as it reaches toward the coffin. Her voice broke through the quiet air, a whisper lost in the wind. She looked like she is drowning, like the grief has swallowed her whole. A priest’s voice mumbled in the background, reciting prayers, but I can't focus on the words. They were nothing but noise to me, lost in the fog of my mind.

I can feel the rain soaking through my coat, trickling down my face, but I didn’t wipe it away. I didn’t care. The cold is a welcome—it is real, something I can feel in the numbness that has settled inside me. Anything to distract from the unbearable truth in front of me.

The priest finished speaking, and there is a long, heavy silence.  Everyones ready,offering their final goodbyes. Alex’s parents is first, stepping forward with slow, deliberate movements, as if the weight of the world rested on their shoulders. His mother placed a trembling hand on the coffin, her lips moving in silent prayer. His father stood beside her, his face set in a grim line, though I can see the tears shining in his eyes. They lingered for a moment, as if they cant bear to leave him, before stepping back into the arms of their family.

Relatives followed, each offering their condolences with soft words and bowed heads. I watch, my heart aching with every step they take. It feels surreal, like I am watching a scene from someone else’s life.