Z: The Abilities Series

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

My world has turned gray. I feel as if my ears are stuffed with cotton; all sound is muted. The wind itself has died, the air stagnant. I am completely shut down and unresponsive. For the next few days, many neighbors and a few of Mom and Dad's friends come bearing food and condolences. I can't recall one name or face. There are no family members to be expected. We are all each other had. On the third day, the day of the funeral, is when I finally snap.

In their will, Mom and Dad said they want to be cremated. There is no big ordeal in the cemetery like you see in movies. In a small parlor with chairs in rows stands a head table filled with beautiful flowers surrounding two marble urns. T and I sit in front, him sobbing. All I can do is sit numb with a blank expression, staring at the urns. After five blissful years, this was all we have to show for it. Why did this happen? What could I have done to prevent it? Oh God, I think my heart is shattering. It hurts.

A small, balding man approaches us. I think he owns the farm next to ours.

"I'm so sorry for your loss. Your parents are in a better place. It is such a terrible loss, but the pain will heal. Things will get easier as time goes by."

Suddenly, the sound around me comes back full force. Something inside me snaps.

"Really?" I exclaim, shooting to my feet. T looks at me shocked, his tears forgotten for the moment. This is the first time I have spoken since we received the news. "That's just fucking amazing you know so much about the afterlife! Who knew there was a fucking psychic here? Please, all seeing one, tell me all about this better place, because I'm pretty sure it would be better if they were here. And another thing. What the fuck am I supposed to say to 'I'm sorry'? Thank you? Am I supposed to be thankful my parents—the only people my brother and I know in this world—are dead? You think this pain, this crack in our hearts, is ever going to heal? I don't give a fuck what you say! The only way it will 'get easier' is if this is all one big fucking joke and my mom and dad aren't dead! Is that the case? Are they still alive?"

By the time I am finished with my rant, I have the poor man by his collar, inches from his face. I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"Z, calm down. Let's sit back down and take a few deep breaths." His voice is calm, barely reaching a whisper as if he is afraid of spooking a wild horse. I let go of the poor soul that was in the wrong place at the wrong time and turn on my brother, shoving him back into his chair.

"No, Toby! This is bullshit!" A small part of me knows I am acting crazy and irrational, but the larger, wounded part of me doesn't give a damn. I stand positioned ready to strike if anyone makes a wrong move toward me. Hands raised, T slowly approaches me. I watch his every move with narrowed eyes, my breathing so quick and heavy it's making me lightheaded. Once he's close enough, he gently wraps his arms around me, and that's all it takes. For the first time since I can remember, I'm crying. The floodgates are open, and I don't think they will ever close. It hurts so badly, as if my soul is being ripped out with each sob. I can't breathe. I'm drowning in my own sorrow. My legs completely give out and we both drop to the ground. It is then that I realize I'm shrieking. The pain's too much; it's as if every feeling of loss, sorrow, guilt, and heartbreaking love is trying to claw its way out of my heart through my throat. Once my throat is raw, I can't even whisper my sobs. I lay in Toby's arms, silent tears flowing. When are they going to stop?

I don't know how long we remain there. Eventually, we are brought back to reality when the social worker approaches us. I glance around and am mildly shocked to see the room is completely empty.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," she says, giving me a nervous glance. She must have seen my outburst. If I wasn't so numb right now, I would have found that funny. "As you know, you are both still minors, and we must find you a suitable home."