[15] Rest In Peace

It was a strange affair, standing out there in the cold with a charcoal umbrella over my head among a vast sea of people I truly didn't know. Days had finally passed since I moved into the Academy. It felt like everything happened all at once.

Jude called back about Macy's funeral soon enough and there I found myself with Ethan. I knew he came more for me than for her, but I could sense he had a bit of leftover guilt lodged in his system, and this was his only way of saying goodbye the proper way.

“It's ironic that any time there's a funeral, there's always rain,” he said.

I adjusted my umbrella and turned to look up at him. “You're right. That is strange.”

“Do you know why most of the time it's like that?” He questioned me.

“I'm guessing it's not the typical reason –which would be that everyone's soul is dark and gloomy and therefore the day automatically becomes bleak.”

“This is my fault,” Ethan said, looking down and shuffling his feet slightly, fidgety.

“No, it's not,” I argued softly. “You did what you had to do.”

“That's not what I meant,” he said, “This weather is my fault.”

“You're the one making it gloomy?”

“It's my emotions... they... run wild sometimes,” He shrugged. “I guess like Berry said that day, I'm really not good at explaining things, am I?” He chuckled.

“You have your off days; everyone does,” I said, resting my hand on shoulder.

“Because I'm so emotionally tethered to storm wielding, sometimes my feelings get in the way of it all,” he explained, “Another flaw. I'm not the only one. It happens to ALL of us.”

I sulked. “So depending on your mood...things just... happen?”

I found it ironic, yes, and a bit sad that it all seemed so connected –like electricity flowing through wires and into a machine, his overwhelming emotions and his skills collided into the atmosphere in a raging storm.

“It sucks, doesn't it?” He said finally, shaking nervously with a slightly scornful chuckle. “Hearing more cons than pros to this stuff.”

I looked ahead of me, Macy's aunt was crying endlessly as she looked down at the girl in the coffin while someone stood behind her, rubbing her in an attempt to provide comfort.

With a blank expression I replied. “Everything has pros and cons. It doesn't bother me. I don't think it ever did.”

“Sometimes it feels like it's the end of the world. Sometimes you feel like you just don't want to be here... to be this. Nothing in our world is much different to this one,” he told me.

The group was moving up, and sooner than later I approached the girl in the burgundy box, her strawberry blonde hair neatly combed to the sides of her face through a straight side part, her eyes no longer bright and youthful and Jade Green, her cheeks no longer flushed. Instead they held only the slight sprinkle of scattered freckles across their pale surface.

Her hands were neatly tucked, one over the other. Her long slender fingers were painted a pretty pink that would never be noticed again. She wore a beautiful gold and black dress.

I could feel the tears coming, but I tried my very best to choke it all down. The truth was, even if I wanted to let it all out, I wouldn't be able to. This scenario felt so familiar somehow. I felt like it hadn't been something that hit me so hard at heart that there was a necessary need to break down right there and then.

“She was a wonderful friend,” I said.

I continued to observe her. A slight peek of the wrist tattoo I'd given her on her first trip to the tattoo parlour was showing from where her left wrist was tucked over her right.

11.09.08.

The day she saved herself.

I bet it felt like her personal trophy. She'd given herself a chance to be free of her own sort of bondage by breaking free of the academic curve ball being thrown by her parents. She'd given herself the chance to explore what she was made of, and whether she achieved that goal or not, she was extremely determined. I would always be proud of her.

I leaned into Ethan, who was fidgeting with the big rose he brought to place at her grave. He placed one hand over my back and pulled me into him. He smelled like peppermint and cinnamon -just like his soap. There was a hint of cologne in there, but he didn't overuse it.

He never overused it.

“Do you need a moment with her for yourself?” I asked him softly.

He shook his head and looked down, “I'll just...give up the rose at the graveyard.”

Though I was extremely close to him, I looked up directly at him and observed him for a few moments. “Please don't blame yourself for this...”

He didn't reply. He let me go, straightened his black shirt and said with the blankest expression, “We should get going... there's a storm coming.”

I looked up at the sky. Silver clouds hung over most of it. Rain was only drizzling for now, but like Ethan had told me numerous times before, he could never do just one thing. There was a storm coming, and not metaphorically - maybe not entirely.

I looked down at my dress, made of purely white wool, knee length, with long comfortable sleeves. Shopping especially for a funeral must’ve seemed unusual for most people –but I really hadn’t attended enough services to be able to own enough formal wear.

My shoes were flat and white as well, I was never much of a sucker for high heels... I would wear them but only occasionally. I left my hair loose; my gut instinct was to do that –or maybe I just knew it was going to be a chilly afternoon.

There were other members of Macy's family standing behind me, and I thought it rude to keep them waiting. I took one last glance at my best friend, whispering my last goodbyes.

When I walked away, I muttered the simple “Rest in peace.” I looked up at Ethan, whose face had been blank for most of the evening.

“When we get back to the academy,” I told him, “I know what I'm going to decorate my room with first.”