My Super Depressing Story About How I Became The First One

Chapter Eleven

We followed the Hurst to the cemetery. It wasn't the one outside the church. The last person buried there was eighty years ago. The villagers now buried their loved ones in a cemetery ten minutes from town, to accommodate to the growing population.

I stood by the exposed dirt where Andy's grave was dug, staring down at the casket where the pieces of my best friend laid. It was a closed casket ceremony, due to the mess the remains were in.

I held one white lily in my hands. Lilies were Andy's favorite flower and I had made sure that was what she was buried with. Every member of her family and close friends held a lily each. They were to say their last goodbyes and wishes to Andy as they dropped the flower onto her casket.

Her father and mother were first. Mr. Williams held a fragile Mrs. Williams as they walked up to the grave. The last time I saw Mrs. Williams, she was a bubbly and strong woman like Any herself. She was nothing like the Skelton that clung desperately to Mr. Williams arm. Her eyes were hollow and bloodshot. She looked like a piece of her had died with Andy. A feeling I knew all too well.

They dropped the flowers in the open grave. Andy's Brother Michael walked up next. Then it was my turn next. I didn't know if I was ready to let go.

But the thought of revenge comforted me as I stepped closer to the exposed hole in the ground.

I looked directly down at the dark wood of the casket and imagined my friend whole again, asleep under the lid. I pieced her back together. Her platinum blonde hair spread out like a halo around her face. I pictured the poor makeup job the morgue would have done on her. But her face still perfect, still beautiful, still so very young. I imagined Andy how I would want to forever remember her.

If I hadn't of seen the mess on the bed at the apartment maybe that was how I would see her. But the memory would forever put a crack in the image. I didn't want to fully forget. I wanted to remember. I wanted revenge.

As my lily joined the others on top of the casket, I didn't whisper goodbye, I didn't whisper promises to her, I didn't beg for forgiveness. No, I whispered three little words, look after Milly.

A single, quivering tear threatened to full on my cheek. I knew once it fell, it would be the beginning of many more. I tried to blink it away, but the promised tears followed shortly after.

I let them stream down my face, making tracks in my makeup. I tried to dab them away with the back of my shaky hand, but there were too many. No crying. No sobbing. Just a sea of silent tears.

I felt a warm solid hand slip into mine. It was large enough to completely engulf my delicate hand. I looked up at Cain, too see the reflection of my broken face in his aviators. My copper eyes were wider than usual, making me look young and vulnerable. I looked like shit.

Cain bent over me, bringing his lips to my ear. The warmth of his breath caressed my neck, making my knees weak. "Are you ok?" he asked in a low whispered.

I nodded, unable to speak. I didn't trust my voice. The tears that soaked my cheeks, started to dry. I was a little too upset to talk.

Cain straightened up and fished inside his pockets. He pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief and handed to me. "Don't worry, it's clean," he smiled as I gingerly took it from his hand.

"Thank you," I managed to mumbled. I dabbed at my cheeks with the soft cloth, soaking the material with my tears.

I looked up to see Mr. Williams making his way over to me. I hadn't spoken to Andy's father since the night of her murder, when I turned his whole world upside down. I held myself responsible for the death of his only daughter and I felt that Mr. Williams felt the same. A lump caught itself in my throat. Was I nervous? Yes I was. I didn't know what I could say to him or how to act. I took a deep breath and forced myself to crack a smile as he came to stand in front of me.

He didn't speak a word, he just stood there looking at me. Mr. Williams was a tall lean man in his mid-fifties, with salt and pepper hair. Laugh lines crinkled the edges of his brown eyes. But his eyes held no laughter. They were haunted and hollow.

The strong, stern man that I had come to know and love as my own father was wasting away before me.

He stepped forward and embraced me in the circle of his tall frame. I had a moment of surprise before I fell into his warm hug.

He kissed the top of my head before he pulled away. I looked up into his red rimmed eyes and smiled.

In all the years of knowing Mr. Williams, he had never been the hugging type or at least to me. "I'm so sorry Mr. Williams," I said.

He clasped my shoulders, "Varnie, there is nothing for you to be sorry for," he said, giving me that stern fatherly look, that I had seen him give to Andy, many times before. "I am sorry that you had to see what you saw that night. No one should ever have to see someone they love in pieces."

"I just wished that there was something that I could have done to prevent it from happening," I didn't say that it was my fault. If I wasn't a witch, and if the vampires weren't looking for me, then maybe Andy would have been safe. I held myself responsible, and within reason.

"There was nothing you could have done," he said, squeezing my shoulders. But there was, had I known that the vampire was in our apartment. I looked down, unable to trust myself to stop before I spoke the truth. I settled for a slight nod. He let go of my shoulders and turned to Cain. They exchanged a nod, before he made his way through the mourners, back to his wife and son.