A collection of short stories in which the root of their love is simultaneously the harbinger of their demise. Because the risque of the heart's desires is often found embedded in the knife jutting through it.
"...you're writing style is top-notch...
Now, Christian looked up. The little church was evidently a few sizes too small when he noticed the lines of people condensed into the cushioned benches, crowding the narrow aisle and clogging the open doorway. It was a sea of people really, calm and dressed in black, all staring back at him.
He flashed his gaze back to the black book seated on the podium in front of him. He took a breath. Surely he had known there was nothing left in the book. After the days he'd spent crying in confusion and sobbing in search, Christian was more than aware that the following pages were empty; but he flipped them anyway.
Because upon that lonely pulpit, he couldn't help but hope that his sister had left a last message for him. There had to be something she wrote that he didn't see. A piece of her left behind, undiscovered. An encore. Letter in a bottle. Closing salutation.
But there was none. And the sea of people waited.
He cleared his throat and shut the book. "These were the memories my sister cherished most." he said, adjusting his tie with one hand and keeping the mic steady with the other." She handed it to me with solidarity at the hospital." And he remembered the helplessness he felt as Brooke choked it out. And the silence thereafter. And him not knowing how to comfort her.
He quickly ended his sister's eulogy. "But she wanted you all to remember her as the free spirit she was. Her spirit will live on in all of us. Thank you." And two weeks ago when a sad smile had found Brooke's lips back at the hospital and her eyelids grew heavy, Christian quickly realized that he couldn't comfort her simply because he hardly knew her. His own sister. At least, not like her friends did.
The congregation gave a few half-hearted claps. On the front bench, however, Christian's mother was wailing. Her brown hair in tangles and her mascara running down her face. Her groaning echoed throughout the little church until her husband had pulled her in and muffled it in his blazer. Her small daughter looked up at her worryingly. Christian relaxed his hand and set the mic on the down.
The crowded sea cocked their heads and whispered. Then, before he could reinforce himself, he felt something come crashing down inside of him like a natural disaster. His mouth began contorting and his eyes broke under the pressure. She was as vivid as ever in his memories, bright-eyed and wide smile. His fists balled at his sides and he grit his teeth.
And he'd never felt so vulnerable like he did then. His knees quivered. He couldn't feel his hands. He wanted to scream and fight and claw at the concrete walls but as he thought about her, he felt utterly drained. He looked at her coffin. His jaw shivered. "Brooke, I'm so sorry."
Because out of all her cherished memories, none were about him. Or their mother, father, little sister. It was as if they didn't lend themselves into her life. As if she had no family. Or that she wished she didn't.
Christian felt a hand pull him off the stage but his mind was as restless as his tears. He broke free and dashed for the coffins.
He passed one, a smooth grey and gold around the edges.
He moved passed another, rose gold with deep reds lining it.
By the time he'd reached the third, he was running. This one was all black but designed with intricacies.
Then he reached his sister's. White as a dove. And then he threw himself on it. Regret tearing from his throat and shame running from his eyes. And he wasn't sure how long he was there, or how many people he fought off to stay there but soon enough his family joined him. And the audience stared.
And they knew it. They were absolutely certain then. That even if the black book lying on the podium got lost, or the words that were calligraphed into its pages faded, that they would never, ever forget her.
Author's Note
And that's the second story, guys! Thank you all for sticking around to the end of this one! This was so much fun to write and I've learnt so much. This story will always be a part of me. If it will be a part of you too, don't forget to vote, comment and share! And continue reading to get started on the third and final story!
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