The Curse ✔️

Chapter 11: The Funeral

My mind drifted between the fifteen caskets, lowered in the ground at the same time, and the overall shortness of life we live. I wanted to pay my respects to the dead, but fear for the living was stronger. A foreboding sense of despair loomed over us, combined with the thick, grey clouds. The air smelt of ozone. I clutched my black, plaid coat tighter and tried not to think ill thoughts of people surrounding me.

To be precise, the lack of them.

Of three hundred students in the school, less than fifty came to the funeral. Parents of the students that died were present, at least. And the looks on their faces were indescribable. Such tremendous pain was hard to put into words. Mixture of disbelief and agony decorated their pale expressions, making me look away. Tears stung in my eyes as I watched the smiling faces on the pictures exposed in front of the caskets. So many hopes and dreams crushed in a second, disappearing forever. And why? Mere coincidence.

Perhaps it would be easier if there was someone to blame. But they were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, too close to the windows, too slow to run away.

The choir sang the song, solemn and melodious, and Amma grabbed my hand, burying her face in my coat. Quiet cries escaped from her lips and I used all my strength to not fall apart there and then.

It could've been us. Amma, Morta, me. Like this made it any less terrifying and easier to handle. Just because it wasn't people I knew, didn't mean it wasn't an immense tragedy.

At least all the teachers were present, including my father. I avoided his eye contact at all costs, which left me no choice but to focus on the dead lowered to the ground.

"We return in great despair what has been given from the ground, back to the ground." The priestess said, her white robes swaying in the light wind. I blinked my tears away, feeling the lump in my throat tighten further.

Emotions swirled through me. From anger towards my father and anger towards all the students that didn't show up, to the plain sorrow that clawed at my heart, reminding me of our own mortality. And for what? My mind tugged with the same old question. Why?

The meaninglessness of it all was turning hard to handle and I desperately wanted to run away, forget any of this even happened. But there was no way to escape the reality. Something attacked our school and killed our classmates, without a shred of dignity or mercy.

Amma sniffled into my coat, offering no comfort, whatsoever, so I searched for it elsewhere. Morta was on my right, but her face gave away no emotion, just a gulp here and there. Timidly, I looked over to the teachers, finding Thar staring at me.

Emotions crashed into me; pain, sorrow, dread, anger. They all hit at once, leaving me gasping for air through the lump in my throat. Thar's entire body twitched and I saw Professor Lorenia grab him by his forearm, stopping him in tracks. He wanted to come to me, I realised and swallowed everything that bubbled up in me.

Finally, tears won the battle and streamed down my face, ruining my foundation and my mascara. I felt the wave of magic reach me, soft and gentle like the touch of a warm, summer day. Thar was sending the magic my way. I breathed in the comfort and let it overwhelm me, hoping it would help keep myself together.

With the soft magic enveloping me, I went through the funeral just like the rest of us. And once the bodies were finally buried and the priestess finished her woeful prayer, I begged for a moment to leave.

Students and teachers began talking to each other, but no face in the crowd held any joyfulness. Deep pain was scattered all over the backyard.

"No one came." I said once I knew no one but Morta and Amma could hear me. Tears stung again, but I ignored them. "No one came to the funeral."