The Books that Never made it

The Funeral

My tissue crumpled in my hand as I hastily brought it from my pocket. My eyes scanned the half circle of people surrounding the black casket. Over in the front, my aunt and uncle sat with their blotchy faces in a sad grimace, leaning on each other’s shoulders, sobbing. All the shadow hunters were here. All the way from Hollistand Island to Gunter. They all stood in black, a morbid color, the color of mourning.

I could hear Jackie, Cody and the twins talking amongst themselves all standing together in the cold. Jackie sobbed into Cody’s arm, her black hair falling straight around her face. She held a tissue to her nose as she gazed at the open casket. The twins, Holly and Boyce stood together, lips quivering as, Boyce patted Holly on the shoulder comforting her. They all glanced towards me, nodding. I turned away just as Jack, my uncle’s brother came up to the podium with a grim look over his face.

“Good evening everyone,” Jack said addressing the black night sky and the people who stood in it. “As polite as it sounds, it doesn’t fit with the occurrence that has happened here.” He gazed down at his hands and swallowed before speaking again. “Tonight is not good at all. One of our blessed shadow hunters has fallen by the dark and evil hand of which we stand against.”

I glanced down at the black rose I held in my palm. It felt like such a heavy object for such a small thing. It weight like a brick in my numb hands.

          “Liam was such a good boy,” Jack said adjusting his glasses, wiping a stray tear from his eye. I cringed at the very sound of my brother’s name. I tried so very hard to avoid looking at the casket. I was afraid that if I did, I would run over to it and crumble against it, never leaving it.

          “Liam always was a goody-two-shoe,” Jack commented with a smile. “He always followed the rules and enforced them as best as he could. His dad was the same way.”

I glanced over to my aunt who buried her face into my uncle’s chest, her shoulder’s shaking horribly.

          “The first demon Liam ever killed was a Germian demon, a fierce fire breathing sort. Liam was only twelve at the time.” Jack shook his head tears coming to his eyes as his voice broke. “I’d never been so proud of that boy,” he sobbed glancing down. Jack Spear, the most unemotional man in the history of all shadows hunters was crying.

“But we can’t let our mourning get in the way of our tradition as shadow hunters. We have to be strong and bring justice for our proud warrior.” Jack smiled to himself, letting the tears invade his cheeks and soak his face. “Liam wouldn’t have wanted us to sit here stuck in tight stuffy clothes and cry. He would want us all black out there in the field fighting for us—for the world; to make it a better place.”

          I brought the tissue to my eyes even though there were no tears. As I stood by myself, I felt as the cold nipped at my arms and face. Usually Liam would come over to me and drape his long arm around my shoulder bringing me into him.

          “You must be cold blooded or something your so cold,” he would always say. Or whenever I cried he would say, “Stop crying, you look stupid. Wipe those tears away and stiffen that upper lip.”

          “Before we go into a moment of silence, there was someone who I would like to say a few words—Liam would want to say a few words.” Jack glanced up to me and jerked his head over to the podium as he stepped down.

          I didn’t move. I just let my gaze wander around the huge crowd of shadow hunters how they all looked at me with red swollen faces and wet eyelashes, waiting. I slipped my gaze over to the open casket and instantly I wished I hadn’t. I could see my brother's pale face sticking up from the casket, his eyes closed and his lips white. It seemed so weird to see him there looking so helpless and fragile like a piece of glass; beautiful yet so breakable.