Lone Wolf

Chapter 1

His ashes drifted in the wind as I watched, an ache in my heart and a neutral expression on my face. There would be no tears on this day. No one wanted a crybaby at a private funeral. So private that only two people are in attendance. The boy's mother, my mother, is crumpled on the ground as her favorite son floats away with no hope of return. The shitty thing is that he promised. He promised that he would come back. That day he hugged me before giving my mother a kiss on the cheek and walking out never to see light again after that day.

They found him bleeding out by the river, the police. Said that he was too far gone to save and that they did everything they could. Of course no one wanted to save the mute freak, the outcast of the small town that we live in. He was beaten to death according to the autopsy that I screamed at the police officer in charge of his case to obtain. When it happened I wanted to scream and scream until my lungs burst with the pressure I was putting on them.

Of course my mother's grip on my arm kept me silent and I screamed into my pillow at night to soothe the aching. I haven't spoken a word since that day in solidarity to my fallen brother. Not even when my mother sat sobbing on the blue carpet in our living room. It's like I lost my voice the day his soul flew away. I'll never be quite whole again now that he's gone.

"Jonah we need to go now."

I jump at the sudden voice that reaches my ears startling me out of my dark thoughts. My mother is standing in front of me, gently touching my shoulder in what is supposed to be a comforting gesture. Just a few minutes ago she was crying and yelling at the sky but now she looks like a normal suburban woman without any makeup. It's horrible. Makeup is anyway. It hides the things that we don't want to be seen and we're all comfortable with the fact that we're all fake. Every word that people say is a lie that is coated in their version of truth.

To be blunt I hate everyone. The only person not subjected to that hate is gone now. My storm is free to pour down on anyone I deem worthy. Which is everyone. Even my own seemingly composed mother.

Stop the act mother, I sign.

She scoffs and says, " Jonah Dmitri Harris I am not putting on an act. In fact, I am perfectly fine thank you very much. No acting is necessary for how content I'm feeling at the moment."

Sure mother. I totally believe you. The sky was definitely not yelled at and God was definitely not cursed a few moments ago. You're perfectly fine. Shadow is definitely alive while we're at it too. Your favorite son. No, don't focus on me now that your precious little boy is gone, his damn ashes probably being ingested by birds right this very second, I sign again more exuberantly this time.

She gasps as a tear trickles down her face at the thought of her precious Shadow being eaten by a bird. That's what I thought. Who cares about her other son that's hurting too. Even in death Shadow takes all of her attention and energy. There's no point in trying to sway her away from that at this point. He is her reason for living while I am just a disappointment that looks like my flaky father. That's what you get for marrying a starving artist. Their attention is never on one thing for very long before they abandon it not caring for the impact it might have on others.

" Don't you dare talk about Shadow like that! He was too precious for this world. That's why the Lord took him away from us so early. Shadow earned his way to heaven and God appreciated that fact by taking him home."

I roll my eyes at that facetious remark, not even bothering to sign anything back. The least God could've done was given him a quick death or had him die where he wasn't cold and alone. I'd like to believe that he's an angel now and is doing important stuff or whatever but I can't. All I can see are his ashes spreading in the wind and his bruised body as he is wheeled into the autopsy room.