hotline anonymous

chapter 2 : of funerals

My footsteps echo a sorrow my body can't feel.

They're lethargic and slow, dragging me across the footpath, like the burden of a thousand past lives and every ounce of anguish I've suffered in them weigh heavy on me.

I missed it. I missed Regal's funeral.

But I can't think about that now. There is one more person who I can't let down. One more funeral that I can't miss.

When I reach the estate, I see all my relatives, sans their sons and daughters, standing at the front of the house. They are blankly staring at the casket in front of them.

The casket in which my dead grandmother lay.

Their faces don't betray any grief that they may be feeling. I don't think they do.

I stride towards the casket with only one goal in mind. One of my aunts turns her head back to look at me and nudges my uncle, whispering something in his ear. He too turns around to look at me, disgust apparent on his face, turns back, and whispers something in the ear of the person next to him.

Soon enough, I am at the foot of the casket and everyone is whispering and staring at me. Criticising me for being here. I reach down and open the casket, and there she was.

My grandmom. The sweetest lady with the meanest glare. A smile manages to make its way on my face, a mixture of sadness and regret, and a loving adoration. I bend down and kiss her on the forehead, trying to convey all of my thoughts to her with that action. I turn to leave, but my path gets blocked by the very same aunt who set off the whispering.

"What are you doing here?" She hisses quietly, her eyes a swirling storm of anger, fully intending to ravage and destroy.

"I came to my grandma's funeral," I reply coldly, looking her in the eye.

"You were not invited."

I shake my head at her words. "I was invited, actually. Just not by you." I smile at her politely, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have another funeral to get to," my smile morphs into a smirk, "Luckily, it isn't yours."

And with that, I walk past her, bumping shoulders roughly while at it.

The whispering takes off again. But this time, I actually listen to what they are saying.

Comments like "The harbinger of death" and "Death's Mistress" are the most prominent ones to grace my ears. But I paused in my steps when I heard, "First, she killed her parents. Then, she threatens Madeline. And now, she's heading to someone else's funeral. Does death follow her around like some lost puppy or what?" And the sound of two people sniggering.

I forced myself to keep walking, not looking back to see who said it. Just like I won't be looking back at the rest of my family, ever again.

***

With tears burning at the edge of my eyes, I crouch down and gently touch the place where Regal's face is. Six feet under.

Memories of that night flash in front of my eyes in bits and pieces; the handle of a knife sticking out from his chest, the gushing blood from the wound. His cold, dead eyes.

My hands ball into fists. Regret and anger churn within me, feeding an already blazing fire.

There was no time to waste.
Giving Regal's grave one last, sad look, I get up and wipe the dirt from the front of my dress and my knees. And then, a single, lonesome bouquet, lying near the head of the grave catches my eye. 

The curiosity to know who left it there, and whether they were someone I knew, grips me.

Picking up the bouquet, I notice there is a folded note stapled to it at the front.

And it has ... my name on it?

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A/N:
lol have fun with the cliffhanger, loveliesss.