The Future Diary 2: Blood Of The Past

A Lovely Day For A Funeral

The clock struck six, and the guests were already showing up as the sky had gone black and snow was gently falling outside. Dawson and Jacob both stood near the front door, as the guests filed in one by one, or in groups or parties. There was a table with a wreath on it, with a framed picture of Dalton in its center.

    Dawson kept his eyes to the crowd, looking for faces he knew. The first one he spotted was Sara.

    "Sara, how are you?" he asked.

    "I had to come to this, you know I did," she replied. "I'm not here for you, I'm here for her."

    He nodded. "Very well. Just, try to have fun, okay? She would've wanted that."

    "You think I don't know?" Sara snorted. "And I will. I wasn't planning on not."

    "Alright," Dawson chuckled. "Who's your friend?"

    "Who?"

    "Me!" a voice boomed.

    "He's not my friend," Sara said pointing to a black man with rainbow hair.

    "I'm Darryl," he introduced himself as. "She's my date."

    "Hell fucking no," Sara snapped. "You got to ride me once, honey, and trust me, you weren't anything special."

    Darryl snapped his fingers in defeat. "Man..."

    They walked away, as Dawson told Jacob to go check on his son and then serve the guests. Just as he turned around, Mark stood in the doorway with his hands out.

    "Dawson, it's so good to see you again," he said. "I'm so sorry for what happened. I really am."

    "That's about all we can be," said Dawson.

    Mark smiled as Shay looked uncomfortable next to him. "If there's anything I can do, I will help you with it."

    Dawson shook his head. "I've got tonight under control, Mark. I'm good."

    "It's a lovely day for a funeral, isn't it? Snowy and everything. Do you know what her favorite season was?"

    Dawson pondered. "You know, I think it was winter, actually."

    "Why was it winter?"

    "I don't know. I think she just liked the cold."

    Mark walked away, and just as he did, Dawson saw Miller standing behind him.

    "Hello," the angel greeted.

    "What are you doing here?" Dawson politely asked.

    "I have a job to do, Dawson. I'm just here to watch."

    The night went on, and just as Dawson was going to go inside to the dining hall, one last group came into his manor.

    "Dawson!" David called. "My man, it's good to see you."

    "Who are you again?" Dawson asked, and David fell quiet.

    "I'm sorry about him," Strat said, shaking Dawson's hand. "He's a bit of a nutcase sometimes."

    "Hey, I'm not that-"

    "Don't ruin this!" Strat shouted. "Anyways, I'm sorry once again. I know Dalton said she hated apologies being in her conversations, but I can't help it."

    "I once got told that apologizing makes things less sincere," Dawson said. "But not everything is true."

    "You're right, not everything people say is true, it's always up to the person you're telling it to. But what I can say is true is that I am very deeply sorry for your loss. I hope my presence shows this."