The System

Epilogue

    The graves lay among the dark grass, the moon above illuminating their surface. Across the miles and miles of foliage was the smell of humidity, the storm gone and the dewdrops lying still on the surface of the leaves attached to the peculiarly shaped branches of trees. Secreted from the bustling roads, the cemetery was silent, only the sound of the cool wind against the grass to be heard, leaving a hollow echo as it bounced off the stones. From every inch, the trees ensconced the graves, a sanctuary for the dead. 

    In the middle of the field he stood, gazing over the stones with void eyes. As if in a trance, a snap of a branch pulled him back to life. He flinched, suddenly lucid as he glanced around the area in confusion. His vision rested between two tombstones where a figure stood, a hand on one, and the other hanging at the side. Both his hands clenched into fists, his chest aching at the sight. To his reaction Shiela smiled, her hand gliding along the top of the stone as if to soothe it.

    "Look at how big you've gotten," she remarked, all the harshness he was used to hearing gone from her voice, "You're not a little boy anymore."

    Josh blinked once, trying to find a flaw in the body that stood before him. Where was the hologram coming from? He scanned the area, but around him was only acres and acres of the tombstones, not a funeral home to be seen, let alone hologram machines. "I...I guess I have grown a bit," he replied. A dark expression passed his face and he couldn't look her in the eye anymore. "You had a hard time, mom," he croaked, "Those years without dad--" He shook his head. "Yet dad was always within reach."

    His mother sighed and turned her head up to the clear skies, the moon surrounded by smaller stars that glittered against the dark. She closed her eyes. "I absolved him albeit all his wrongs," she said, "For everything he's done, I'm willing to overlook it."

    "You love him that much?" Josh bit back on his lip, "Even though he abandoned you to clean up after his litter? To chase his selfish desires?"

    Shiela frowned. Her eyes met his and he cringed at the thought that they never stood on equal level and they never will, but it was different from before. Now he towered over her, a son who was now taller than his mother ever was. "You only think the negatives of your father, don't you?" she shook her head, "That's not good. I never lied to you when I said that your dad was a brilliant man. He was, but like a child, he was overwhelmed with desire. Still, if it weren't for him, I would've never had a brave son like you that I abdicated my own life for."

    "It can't be that easy to forgive him for abandoning us," he protested, the acrimony still lingering.

    "It might not be," she agreed, "However, I had years to think about this. Look at your hands, Josh."

    He obeyed, lowering his gaze to his palms. A feeling of dread threw itself straight into the pits of his stomach as Shiela watched what reflected in his eyes. Dabs of red were spread across his fingers and palms. His stomach tied into knots and he held his breath.

    "You killed your father, didn't you?" Shiela asked, more of a statement than a question. Her son nodded, his eyes wide.

    She breathed in deeply and looked at him with the same caring, soft eyes as if indifferent about his actions. "Those stained hands will never be cleansed," she told him, "As long as you live, they will be tainted with the red of your victim. These hands will forever be yours and will forever be you. If you already accepted this fate, the least you can do is to move on and look beyond the past." 

    He gulped, the feeling of remorse still not present. "Should I feel guilty?" he asked.

    "You can feel as guilty as you wish," Shiela patted the top of the stone, "but this is life. One will die and another will be born. This is the pattern that humans were destined to. We all must die someday and the only difference is how soon."