Death - II

"A black funeral suit," Eugene, the housekeeper of the manor stepped into his wardrobe with a suit in her hand, "I am hanging it here. You have 30 minutes before the funeral starts, we have to leave within 15." 

A funeral. 

Even the name of the event left a bitter taste in Brandon's mouth. When he had hoped he would not have to feel for the rest of his life. But Alas, it was here already. 

"Eugene," he called, making her turn halfway, "would you travel with me?" 

Something passed through her eyes, and she took a second to reply to him. She gave him a jerky nod before leaving. 

Well, at least I won't have to go to it alone now. 

In a rush, Brandon, showered, got dressed, styled his hair to represent in front of the extended family members before he went downstairs and stood in front of the portrait of his parents. 

"Grandpa joined you today," Bran let out a sad chuckle, "which means I'm the only one left here now." 

She turned his eyes up to the roof, controlling the tears that were burning his eyes. If he cried, his eyes were going to get red, and so was his nose. It would be an indication to his aunts that he had cried, and they would definitely provoke him. 

"Mister Wallace," Eugene stopped a few steps away from him, "it is time we leave." 

Perhaps it was for the better that they left. He walked out of the house first and Eugene followed behind. They were inside the car, it was driven straight to the church. 

The first thing Brandon noticed was that the car belonging to his aunt Annabel was already here. 

So one of the two devils was here already. He wondered if she had brought along her son. 

Everything regarding the funeral had already been decided by his grandfather and had been written down in his bill that the lawyer had carried out. The event organizer was here, and he pointed out Brandon's seat. 

It was in the front room, and the people beside him were someone he had not even heard of. That was good, at least he was not sitting beside anyone related to him by blood. 

Within a few moments, the church filled up with people. A few faces he recognised, a few he were familiar with, and a lot he had never met in his life. 

The service began, his aunts were the people that were first called up for a few words that they would like to share. For as long as they talked and stood at the stage, Brandon did not look anywhere except the casket. 

Then his name was called.

Suddenly, the silence that had been present since the service began became more daunting. Enough to make him shake behind the podium, and he was thankful that it was not see-through.

"I would like to begin by sharing my gratitude for all of you who are present here." He paused and he heard a snicker. 

"My grandfather was not an exemplary man, he was not a lucky fellow, but he was a hard-working one. He built his company from the ground up, all by himself before my father joined him. He took me in when my parents passed away, and treated me as his son and raised me for who I wanted to be. I—" 

His throat clogged up with emotions. Brandon was aware he could not continue any further, and if he did, he would cry in front of everyone. He gulped before continuing, "I apologise, I do not have much to say about him, not to everyone. But my grandfather was someone who had become my ideal, someone I looked up to, and someone who I know will always be proud of me. I love you quite clearly, grandpa. Thank you for all that you've done for me."  

He stepped away from the podium and moved to his seat. As Brandon sat down, he closed his eyes and allowed one tear to fall. 

A dry, bitter speech was all he had given for a man who had taken him in, adopted him and loved him the way he would love a son.

He was a coward.

Brandon felt the presence of someone behind him, but before he could turn around, he heard, "do not try to run after the service. We are going to sit down with the lawyer for the will." 

That was his aunt Victoria.