Beyond the Sinister (COMPLETE)

I. the wake

The girl in black frock let out a soft sigh, her emerald eyes scanning the monstrous manor before her, the sound of the horses' gallops dragging the carriage silencing behind her, a cream-colored carpet bag in her right hand.

The sight standing before her held numerous heart-wrenching memories. She can vividly remember the countless conversations mixed with endless childish acts and banters with Dorian Canning, her best friend since God knows when.

Despite her lack of knowledge of the infuriating social norms, she is well-informed friendship between the opposite sex is frowned upon.

Nevertheless, never did it occur to her to stain their friendship due to shallow dos and don'ts.

Fixing her black satin gloves that concluded right in her chill elbow, she began walking towards her best friend's wake.

A cold breeze passed by, causing the mourning lady to slightly shiver. The lackey, a short middle-aged man, bowed at her, offered to fetch her carpet bag from her slender gloved hand in which she politely declined.

Before she could step one foot in the drawing-room, there stood a woman in her early fifties. She studied the woman walking towards her, realizing she aged so much since the last time she saw her the previous month. Perhaps, it is all due to Dorian's death.

The girl in black is well aware that she too, aged quite a bit the moment she received the news regarding her best friend's death back in the boarding school in Bath.

Goodness, the heroine just reached the age of nineteen a couple of months back yet she already felt like a dying lady of ninety.

She was welcomed by such a familiar and consoling embrace of her Aunt Veronica, her delicate fingers quickly returning it. It was her aunt who first broke the contact after a few moments.

"Blessed is that headmistress of yours for granting my humble request, Seraphina," uttered her aunt, lightly dabbing her white immaculate handkerchief to her cheek, her other hand gripping a fancy black fan she bought at the Town's Market a few seasons back.

"The Headmistress has been nothing but kind, Aunt Veronica," she replied, flashing a little obligatory smile of her own to her aunt who could see past everything.

Truth is, Seraphina herself was quite surprised the Headmistress allowed her to travel back to Avebury for she lived in the boarding school for a long time now. Long enough to know that the Headmistress doesn't allow her students to go in-and-out of the facility.

She wondered what made her agree.

"Good Lord, go take a seat, child, the journey surely was exhausting," lamented Aunt Veronica though her niece slowly shook her head, her emerald eyes glued to the black coffin opposite her.

As soon as Seraphina's feet made it to the coffin, her eyes focused on her dear lifeless friend, that's when she felt herself crying once more.

Stupid, how could she cry for the nth time this week? She already cried enough to fill up another Pacific Ocean.

Seraphina terribly wants to hide in the corner of the drawing-room and bawl. Throw tantrums like a child, demanding how everything isn't going the way she likes it.

Instead, she stood still, her fingers trembling uncontrollably, laggardly letting her fingers travel across the glass which separates her from her dead friend.

She stared at him, his eyes closed, his mouth in a straight line, his blond hair well-combed. They even let him wear the shirt and breech she gifted him on his 18th birthday.

The girl in black doesn't realize she just let out a loud cry, catching the attention of many when she felt a familiar hand touch her shoulder, she doesn't need to turn her head up to see who it was.