The priest had a moving speech. I was never religious but I suddenly caught myself praying, just as the priest had suggested for the gathered to do. When I looked up again, while everyone was still citing words of prayer with their eyes shut tight and hands clenched together, thoughts of disappearing crossed my mind.
The fog was thick, nobody would even see me leave the cemetery.
I put my hat on and carefully sneaked out of the crowd, trying not to be noticed, but once I left the row of graves where the funeral took place, I saw a dark figure in the fog, close enough to know I was, in fact, noticed.
It was a woman in a long black dress. Her face was covered in a thin veil and she was holding an umbrella, even though the rain stopped already and left only a mist behind. The sight gave me chills. It was strange enough to see someone dressed this way, especially at a graveyard, but she was staring directly at me. Not only I could see that, I felt her glare on me.
A sudden wave of fear filled my heart and I tried to blend back into the crowd, but the priest finished his prayer and people all around me grew uncomfortable with my behaviour.
I clumsily stumbled to the centre of the crowd. It was strange to look at a casket and feel... comfort. It was something that was supposed to be there. I felt no sadness for the loss of the man under the lid. He was dead to me for a long time even before his demise. I thought it would be highly inappropriate not to come, though. I'm his son, after all.
Or at least I was once.
Before I could realize, people started to leave the cemetery. At first, I panicked, thinking someone would perhaps try to convey their condolences to me. Nobody knew who I was, though. None of those people recognized me.
I don't blame them.
I caught myself staring at the casket even after everyone left. I thought I saw the priest in the corner of my eye, waiting for me to leave as well, but when I looked up, it was the strange woman who was standing next to me.
The rain started to pour from the gray clouds again so I welcomed her presence, and the protection of her umbrella.
"I hoped you would come," she said in a familiar voice.
"I never thought you would, considering the circumstances.
But I hoped to see my son again."
I shivered.
I looked the woman in her eyes and even through the dark veil, I recognized the cold of the blue.
"No. That's not possible," I whispered with fear in my voice.
"My mother is dead!"
Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder and I turned around, only to be interrupted by the priest.
"Boy, are you alright?" he asked, concerned.
I wanted to answer but my voice was taken away by the sudden realization — the woman was gone.
I nodden and then swiftly left the graveyard, confused and scared by the phantasm I'd seen. But was it really a phantasm? My jacket was dry.
