Darkest Sleep

Prologue

Birds sang never-ending songs, cars squealed down the road, the wind danced through the trees, and. There was a class of elementary school children passing by the cemetery, gracing our presence with hushed murmurs and fatuous laughter.

The harsh sun beamed down on the casket that displayed Daisy's remains. A black gown with soft floral embroidery was wrapped against her corpse. They had been careful to cover her chest as much as possible, to cover the scars. The blade had left a macabre embossing on her collar.

I was wearing my funeral dress – the one Mom had bought for me a year ago for Uncle Kit's funeral –and two pendants now. We had gotten them when we were younger from a family friend, and they meant Hell and Heaven to us, even after we started going our separate ways.

Let go of it all... rest.

And this is what is called being in denial? Am I in denial?

Mostly, I just felt hollow, and angry. My fingernails were digging into my palms so bad that blood would probably stain the gloves I wore soon enough. My lip wasn't much better, the river of blood had already started merging with the tears.

Truth was, I wasn't sad. I mean, I knew I should be sad. My twin sister was dead... was gone. I had lost a part of myself, it should have been, it was, devastating. Instead of being sad, I was just... angry. Furious.

I hate you... Why forgive her? That was a question that kept pounding my mind. She'd forgotten me. She'd forgotten us.

My parents and the unholy congregation, the rest of the family, and then the other bastards of the town. They were poisoned by greed, hate, and pride.

They looked so small, standing there. The other guests didn't help – they were watching us, their "stares of support" heavy and artificial. 

They were all part of the various sects of the family, from far and wide. They proved that all roads led to Raven's Cross. Wrong... They  proved that all roads led to death. All roads led to a bunch of strangers shedding crocodile tears as you rotted away, for bloody political advantage.

I coughed, looking at the casket as the plump priest from church rambled and on about God's grace and "His plan" and heavenly mercy and shit.

I hadn't invited any of my friends, but a few still made it. None of Daisy's friends were here, obviously. At least, none of her real friends, as we'd so recently found out. Once she started distancing herself from us, she fell out with the old clique.

No one around here was going to invite her new 'friends'. Stoners – without a fat bank account and a silver spoon up their ass, mind you – didn't come to this side of town.

The priest finished his nonsense with an amen and the whole gathering went silent.  Dad snapped the wooden bar of his seat into two pieces. Mom's quivering knees went out, and she started sobbing.

I just stood there silent, and raging, watching as my twin sister, more silent than ever, was lowered into the earth.

And I couldn't follow her.

Sleep, Daisy, sleep.

AN : Thank you so much for reading! This is my first installment, and it's set two weeks before chapter one, as you'll learn later. I'm really trying to experience with 1st person, and (the narrator) Eloise's voice. I wrote the first few chapters of my former draft (poorly attempted) in Daisy's voice, with a different plot, and so this is a transition.  I'll get to the metaphorical meat and potatoes soon enough.

F4T : I wrote in 1st person to convey emotion, and a bit of rage? Did I do it well, and should I continue writing in 1st person?