Starlight Souls ✦

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Something about the air of Adorar was off; nevertheless, it still felt like home. Maybe it was the silence that had taken over the neighbourhood or the gloomy weather that day, or it could have been the absence of a loved one whom you would never see again for the rest of your life. For Sirelle, the situation was because of all three things, especially the last one. She didn't know what to do. All the times that she had come home, her older sister was the one to welcome her. She was the one Sirelle spent the most time with when she was home, and now that she had gone away, Sirelle felt too empty.

When we loved someone, their souls got so tangled up with our hearts, so that when they were taken away from us, a part of our heart was taken away with them.

As Sirelle made way over to the place that she knew her whole family would be—the church of Adorar—she was met with a lot of people, each one of whom was giving her a strange look. Sirelle knew what was the reason behind those strange looks—it was her sheer resemblance to her sister's looks. They both looked so identical to each other, despite the seven-year age gap, that from a distance, you wouldn't be able to tell who was who. It was only their parents and close relatives who were able to tell who was Sirelle and who was Samantha.

When she walked inside the church, all the eyes were fixated on her. She walked to the place where she thought her parents would be, earning a few gasps from the crowd. Everyone was shocked to see the girl whose painting was placed with the casket alive and walking on her own two feet, not knowing that it was actually the sister of the one who had passed away.

Then she spotted the two faces that she was searching for, and the time just seemed to have frozen. Sirelle was frozen on her spot, unable to move for a few seconds as her gaze met the other two gazes, which felt like home just as much as the dead girl did. As soon as Sirelle was back in her senses, to be able to move, she let go of her luggage bag and just ran over to those two people, burying her face in their embrace as the three of them went into a tight hug.

They stayed like that for a few moments as a servant came and took a hold of the luggage bag that Sirelle had left behind before taking it with him. Every eye was now fixed on the three people, the ones who had suffered the biggest loss as of that moment in between all of the people who were present at the scene. They felt sad for the three; they felt pity for them for such a loving family to be met with such traumatising circumstances.

As the three of them let each other go and broke the hug, they looked at each other and realised how every single one of the three was in tears. Each one of them had tears running down their faces with eyes so red, it looked as if they had been crying for days, which they indeed have been.

'I'm sorry to disturb your precious moment, Mr. and Mrs. Emerson.' A feminine voice managed to grab the attention of the emersons as they turned their heads towards the source of the voice to find a tall and petite lady—looking to be in her forties—standing before them, wearing all black as to respect the fact that she was at a funeral. 'Is this your younger daughter, the one you were talking about?'

'Obviously I am; otherwise, why would I have ran to them like that before hugging them? Clearly, I am their daughter.' That was what Sirelle meant to say but decided to keep those words inside her mouth and swallow them on the second they formed, so as to not sparl up an argument and let the funeral processions go on peacefully.

'Yes, Mrs. Patrickson.' Sirelle's mother answered, 'This is our younger daughter, Sirelle.'

'Oh, I see.' The lady placed her hand on top of Sirelle's head and ran it down her hair at the back of her head. 'It's just that she had a striking resemblance to your other daughter that, for a moment, I mistook her as the older one.'

'If I look so much like my sister, wouldn't that have been enough for you to believe that I'm their daughter?' Sirelle thought but didn't say out loud.

It was at that moment that Sirelle noticed the short and round man standing besides the lady, who seemed to be her husband. Even though he was the same age as his wife, the man looked significantly older. Even though Sirelle knew that he was in his forties too, she couldn't help but ponder the fact that he looked like he was in his sixties already. Perhaps the couple were in face, sixty; who could tell? It was already pretty evident that the lady was wearing makeup; who knew if she was indeed sixty beneath the makeup?

'You don't live here, do you, dear?' The lady asked Sirelle, placing her hand on Sirelle's chin in a soft way, but the energy that Sirelle felt coming from the lady wasn't soft at all. 'Because I haven't been seeing you around much for quite some time.'

'It's because she has moved to another place for her studies.' Sirelle's mother sensed Sirelle being uncomfortable and answered the question about her place.

The lady raised a brow to that statement, 'Moved to another place? Where, I might ask?'

'Mirae Town.' Sirelle answered, not wanting her mother to answer the questions meant for her; she wanted to show that she was also capable of speaking for herself.

The lady's eyes seemed to have widened after Sirelle gave her the answer. She blinked in surprise, 'You're a scholar of the Mirae University?' Sirelle nodded her head, and the lady was flabbergasted at that, almost as if she refused to believe Sirelle's words, 'Really?'

'Indeed.' Sirelle replied as she saw a wave of emotions sweep past the ladies face. It was envy at first, but it was soon replaced by a huge grin that Sirelle recognised to be fake.

'That's amazing!' The woman said, masking the jealousy behind her smile. Sirelle knew the reason behind that; she knew that the lady's son sent his application for Mirae University just when she did the same. But when the results came, Sirelle was the one who got accepted; he was professionally rejected.

Sirelle's mother spoke up, 'Mrs. Patrickson, if you excuse, the funeral procession is about to take place soon.'

'Oh, yes, my dear, I'm sorry for interrupting your sweet family moment.' The lady said before storming off to a seat in the farthest corner, her husband following behind her like a lost puppy.

'Sirelle, dear,' Her father spoke up for the first time in the conversation, 'Take a seat; the priest will be here soon.'

Sirelle nodded and took a seat in the front row, the row meant for the family and close friends of the one who had passed away. There, Sirelle saw two of her sister's friends sitting besides her, both of them teary to a point that they weren't even able to speak. Both of the ladies were quietly crying with handkerchiefs pressed in front of their mouths, tears running down her face. Sirelle wondered how much it would pain her sister to have died, but she knew that the pain of the dead is nothing compared to the pain of the people close to the dead.