Writer Games: The Final Twist & A Night in Wattpad Manor & Faction Wattpad

The Funeral: Eden Cartwrite

Her hair was like the  snow on a cold winter night, and her skin was wrinkled with a strange  delicacy that can only come from years of smiling. Her trademark round  glasses perch upon her nose, her bright green eyes that always had a  glint of something in them are now closed. Her body lies silently and  peacefully in a simple brown casket, the varnished brown only  accentuating her blue suit- she was never one for dresses, after all.

As the Faction squares  all chime out simultaneously, the people who have made it to the Chicago  Funeral Home in Abnegation- which is quite a lot- begin to file into  the visitation. Mothers weep and hold their children tight, their leader  now passed on.

The hour continues  painstakingly slow as people pay their respects to the Leader of the  Factions. Eden Cartwrile, being Leader for almost fifty years, had  passed and created many new laws, in which many people who had come to  pay respects to her had only been a child when enacted- like the  Factionless Children Act, which stated that any children born  Factionless would have the opportunity to become integrated into  society.

As the hour dwindles,  many of the people begin the slow trek to the actual Church building,  where the funeral will take place formally. It is the only Church in the  Factions, and because praying for hope is considered selfish to the  Abnegation, the Church is rarely used except for political deaths.

The large church is  entirely full by two o'clock, with people having to stand at the back to  get a view of the funeral. The loud murmuring of the crowd quiets to an  inaudible whisper as the local priest stands in front of the people,  and the funeral procession begins. The casket, carried by a member from  each faction, proceed silently in, and the crowd draws a collective  breath as it makes its way down the aisle, to be set behind a large  picture of Eden.

The mass is performed  solemnly and quickly, and then people are invited to speak words about  her. A young boy in the crowd sits in a small suit, with his father, an  aging man looking almost fifty or so, who has silent tears streaming  down his face.

The boy tugs on his  father's sleeve, "Papa, is this the woman you said let me go to school?"  The father sniffed, pulling out a handkerchief, and nodded. He smiled  and bent down to his son's face. "She was also the woman who helped me  out of the factionless."

The boy whispered back,  his golden eyebrows furrowed- one of Eden's colleagues was taking the  stand now- "But why, Papa? Why would she do that? I learned in school  that before her it was illegal? Why you?" The man gave a small smile,  "We met a long time ago, when she was still being initiated, and I guess  she never forgot me."

The little boy nodded, his feet kicking under him. They sat in the first row, the row where speakers sat.

As Eden's friends began  to proceed up to the podium, their voices quivering while praising and  honouring Eden and her accomplishments, the man with his son sat  silently, waiting for the others to go.

There was only one  person in front of the unnamed man, and then he would be the last to go.  He could hear weeping in the crowd from people- for many they had never  had any other Leader other than Eden, and the thought made his heart  swell.

The young woman sitting  before the man stood up and walked to the podium, the other woman  stepping down. Her head held up, the severe-looking woman stood up,  adjusting the microphone to her height.

Her hands clapped  together her cue cards, and in a moment her voice rang out to the crowd.  "As many of you know, I am Eve Griffith, daughter of Eden. My mother,  she was a special woman, to say the least. Marrying my father, Rob, and  then having me, she would always say was her best accomplishment in  life. My father, of course, passed away five years ago, but this isn't  about him today, is it?" The crowd murmured. "My mother, she was a  spectacular person, and while I may not have agreed with some of the  rules she imposed upon her household- which was a lot, let me tell you-  the rules were always flexible and were there for good reason. My mother  was known to be a kind-hearted person, whose changed to the Factions  made it a better and more equal place, and even though many people would  think she would be different alone, she was not. She was the same  person you saw on the streets- and she made sure of that. My mother was  never one for different personalities in different places- what you see  was what you get from her.

"She would, as I  remember, often come home from her work in the evening to make a cup of  tea and then sit down next to me on the ground and help me with my  homework- no matter what. No matter what she would always come into  wherever I was sitting and ask me how my day was, and what had happened.  When I would ask her why, she would always repeat the same phrase over  and over again. She would tell me, "Eve, each day is a new day and I'm  going to be here for you for every one of them.' And now, twenty, thirty  years later, I think I finally understand what she meant.

"So, I tell you all, my  mother was, and will be, forever ingrained in my mind as the best person  to run the Factions. And she was the best mother I could ever have  asked for. Thank you." The woman steps down, dabbing at the corner of  her eyes with a tissue, and walks to the fifth row to reunite with her  children, Timothy and Frannie.

The man, now occupying  the row alone with his son, stands up on shaky legs, and, patting his  son's head, walks up to the podium. He fiddles with his tie. "Hello."  His voice comes out hoarse and he coughs. "Excuse me, um, well," he  begins, his hands clammy. "You see, not many of you know me, perhaps  none of you know me at all," he gives a small chuckle down at his shoes.  "My name is Jack, and you see, back before Eden became Leader, she, um,  you see, the group of them were invited to visit the factionless, and  well, she visited me. I was only ten at the time, but," he furrows his  brows and looks away from the crowd, "but she left a lasting impact on  me- she was the only one who took the time to actually talk to me. After  she became Leader, she decided to hunt me down, and well," he adds  sheepishly, running his hand through his hair, "that reunion was  anything but normal, to say the least." The crowd chuckles.

"After that, we kept in  touch, and six months later, she told me that she had passed the  Factionless Children's Act, which enabled my non-existent children, and  my siblings and I, to attend school and have the chance to participate  in the Choosing. She gave me a sense of hope for the future, now the  people whose circumstances caused them poverty could have the chance to  be equal again. I'm here today because of her, and she was and still is  one of my best friends and favourite people. She inspired hope in me,  and, today, I am living a proper, healthy life with my children and  wife. And I owe it to her.

"Her generosity was masked only by her love of both books and friends. And I hope her memory lives on forever. Thank you."

The crowd clapped, and  the man stepped off the podium, his eyes misty with tears, and took his  son's hand and led him to the back of the room, where his wife was  holding his daughter.