Silverston's Sovereignty

#1 The Fallen Leader

Everyone came to the Silverston's mansion. Everyone, including Trevor, Mr Faulkner's very distance son. He moved across the country to get away from his father, for five years to be exact, but it wasn't until today that he decided to visit. Sadly this is the day of his father's funeral.

As soon as I entered the mansion's hall I could see it was full of sorrow. I looked out the window. The sky was tar-black. I heard a tapping on the window and then it became a pitter-patter. People ran for cover outside and umbrellas were opened as the clouds spat out their beads of water. Puddles began plinking as the rainfall became heavier. The roofs of the cars danced with spray and I could hear the murmuring of the rain through the window.

Minutes later, I saw a hearse and three limos arrived at the mansion. The family filed into the vehicles while the drivers loaded the hearse with the numerous roses. Faulkner loved roses; they were blue, he loved anything blue. Dad once told me that blue is a central symbol of inspiration. It give the definition of desire, love and symbolize hope and beauty of things.

The rain stopped as soon as the family arrived at the funeral location. The atmosphere not only looked gloomy but felt gloomy, even for Trevor. Everywhere he looked there were no smiles. He then took his seat at the front.

Even the seats weren't very comfortable. Trevor had to re-position his rear end a few times before he could sit properly. And to top it all off, the chairs were Faulkner's favorite color: blue.

I could smell the petrichor in the atmosphere, with the birds chirping and flowers blooming. Dad would have given anything to see this day.

Besides all of his colleagues, friends, former high school classmates, cousins and the townfolks came to the funeral. Making the air a little too stuffy. Faulkner was popular in that way. For reasons he'd never understand.

The moment he tuned out the chattering and noise , Trevor noticed something right in front of him. What he came here to see, the casket. Fortunately, it was an open casket. Apparently he would be able to see his father one last time. Something he never really wanted to do, considering they weren't very close.
Whenever Trevor tried to face him, the worst memory came within.

As stubborn as Trevor always be, he decided not to see him one last time. He extremely resented his father. His anger for him was well known. Some people even thought that he murdered him at first, but the evidence proved otherwise and the real culprit was locked behind bars for a long time.

The casket was closed and carried to the hearse. Friends and family followed. Trevor reluctantly joined them.

As the casket lowered into the ground, many tears were shed. Trevor even had a tear shed, but it honestly wasn't sadness. It was happiness. Trevor Silverston believed he had every right to hate his father. He knew he didn't leave him any fortune and he knew his father hated his guts just as much as he hated him. For Trevor to have attend this funeral was a miracle in and of itself. Truly, he wanted closure but he'd never admit that to himself.

However, Trevor happened to be the last to stay. Why? No one knows.

It is almost dusk, so I ask him,
"Hey Trevor, you coming to the dinner?"

He looked up to see who it was and immediately furry boiled over inside him.

"You!" Trevor shouted, attacking and pinning me down on the ground.

"No Trevor, you misunderst....."
before I finished my word, he forcefully punch my face and leaving my nose bleeding.

I endure the pain and hit his face back, shattering his nose and rolled him on the ground. We both get up and he slapped me with his open left hand full across my face. It rocked me and I took a step back and then steadied myself, blinking my eyes and staring at him.
"You started this, Trevor!"
"No Zade, you and your stupid father started this 5 years ago!"

I sprint towards him with the boiling anger inside me and with my left hand, I strike his ribs where the sternum ends. It paralyzed his diaphragm. He tried to resist but I grabbed his wrist with my left hand and hit him twice more with my right, square in the nose. He sagged and I shoved him away.

He started to fight back, but suddenly a familliar oldman's voice call us from distance.

*TO BE CONTINUED

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