The Destiny of A Dragon Rider [SLOW UPDATES]

Chapter 1: Blood

I've always hatred funerals, really I did. I mean, nobody likes going to funerals. Especially if it's more than one person.

Here I was in the funeral home's bathroom throwing my guts up. I should've gotten past the throw up stage by now, but that's not the case. This is the first time in two months I've thrown up.

As I pulled my head up and wiped my mouth with the black sleeve of my shirt, I looked down through blurry eyes.

I tumbled back against the stall door and gasped, forcing down a scream that threatened to rise in my throat. What I saw in the toilet wasn't just throw up.

Blood was there, too.

--

I took some time to recompose myself, before taking a deep breath and going back out to the funeral room where the waking was.

"Faye." Soft fingers touched my shoulder, but it felt like ice pricks piercing my spine up and down mercilessly, making me jump with a soft gasp.

I whipped around, my eyes wide and saw my husband, Jackson, standing there. His chocolate brown eyes were lit with concern, and his windswept brown hair was ruffled from the wind of the thunderstorm outside.

"Easy," he whispered, his fingers curling around mine gently. "It's just me. Are you okay?"

I closed my eyes for a moment, my heart pounding against my ribcage as I swallowed a lump the size of a boulder. "I'm fine," I whispered back shakily, clutching his hands tighter than I meant to.

"Are you sure? You're really pale.."

I put my head against his chest, sniffling. My stomach twisted, making me want to run away from Jackson and throw up all over again. But I had nothing to throw up.

"Butterfly." Jackson's hands slid to my back, his fingers drawing little patterns across the fabric and into my skin. "What's wrong? Is it the baby?"

"I don't know," I whispered, then shook my head and lied, "No it's nerves. I just can't believe they're really gone.."

Jackson's lips brushed against my hairline and he tensed slightly, knowing how sensitive the topic was for me. "I know, butterfly.."

I leaned against him and rubbed my face. I had agreed to come to the funeral, but I refused to go and see their bodies. My brother Kevin, his wife Ronda, an their five year old daughter Zoey. I couldn't bring myself to see them, I just couldn't. Jackson decided to wait out in the lobby with me while family and friends gathered to say goodbye to the young family, who were only growing.

Ronda was expecting when she died. Four lives, one not even born, were lost to the hands of a murderer. My stomach flipped again and tears cascaded down my cheeks like race cars on racing tracks.

"When will the waking be over?" I hissed bitterly, crossing my arms and glaring through teary eyes at the closed dark brown wooden doors. "What's so important about looking at three dead bodies? That doesn't help with grief!"

Jackson's hands rubbed my shoulder, his fingers brushing some of my curled blonde hair from the left side of my neck to the right side.

"It's how some people have closure. How they say goodbye," my husband replied quietly, holding me closer. "The last times they'll see them again."

"But they're dead bodies!" I snapped back at him, furiously wiping my watering eyes. "I mean, what the hell? I don't want people looking at my body when I die! It would only remind everyone of my death."

Jackson sighed softly. "For some people that's true, but others..it helps," he said quietly, kissing me on the back of the neck to comfort me.

I wiped at my cheeks and looked down at my hands again, watching them shake slightly. "Jackson.."