There it was again: Somebody had to take responsibility for our sins—this time it was him. Our sin had been that we had wanted to be together, no matter what. And no matter how much I cried or begged the heavens to take me instead, it was him. He was lying in the coffin, cold as the the earth he would be buried in, lifeless. He had taken a part of my soul with him, and the loss was aching more and more as my eyes lingered on the plain surface of the thin wood that shielded Adam’s broken body from my eyes.
Tears ran down my cheeks, slowly and quietly.
“Brothers and sisters,” the priest began, “today we gather here for a very sad event. The funeral of Adam Gallager. Adam was a kind person, somebody who was always welcome everywhere. His honest nature, his patience…”
The dark grave swallowed the rain greedily and I could imagine perfectly well what it would look like when it swallowed the plain wooden coffin and my Adam with it.
“…because it was his time to go, and God knows the right time for everyone. Adam’s life was full of happiness, though short and…”
Only seconds after the pictures had rushed through my head it happened, and it was exactly as I had imagined. The four men that had been supporting the coffin with dark red satin laces, let it glide into the open grave.
“…we will remember him and therefore he will live on in our hearts. Amen.”
I watched the coffin vanish into the gaping hole with a growing unease in my body. I wanted to jump after him, tear him from the plain wooden box, shake him, wake him up, but it was too late. He would never wake up again.
People were lining up around the open grave. They formed a queue, starting at the open grave, ending far behind me. I noticed that all of the mourners were clutching flowers in their hands. Slowly, they moved forwards, one after the other, each of them throwing a blood-red rose into the hole that was surrounded by wet earth.
I saw my feet move, but couldn’t feel them, as I couldn’t feel the rain that started soaking my clothes. Sophie’s hand was resting on my shoulder, I could feel her shaking as she dragged me forward. The people around me were a black blurry mess, and I wondered if that was because of the tears in my eyes or because the world was slowly starting to crumble.
I mopped my eyes with my sleeve and decided it was the tears, although it felt like the world was crumbling around me.
My thoughts were already far away when I came to a halt. I found myself facing an open grave. Adam’s family was standing nearby—his mother, her angelic face drowned in tears, his father and his brother.
I looked at the open grave and saw the coffin on the bottom, covered in red roses.
Petrifying panic flared up inside me. Suddenly all the noises were intensified. The sound of the rain pattering down on the grave hurt my ears, the water falling down onto my face and hands stung my skin, the tears burned in my eyes. I was very aware of everything around me, the cold, the rain, the sobs of the woman behind me, the shaking body of Adam’s mother as she threw a rose into the open grave beside me, the people filing in behind us, Sophie pulling me to the side—but somehow I couldn’t move.
Everything felt like too much to bear, but I wouldn’t go to pieces, not here, not now. I had to say my final goodbye, at the least I owed him that. I felt my sister taking a step towards me, wrapping one arm around my shoulders. She threw her rose into the grave. I waited for a second until she stepped back and then my arm stretched out mechanically, and my fingers loosened their grip on the fragile flower they were clutching. I let it slip, unable to keep them tight around it. It was like losing the grip on reality, like letting go the final piece of denial that had been raging inside me, like finally admitting that it was true. It was acceptance, and it felt like a deep cut ripped my soul.
I watched the rose fall in slow motion—It felt like a surreal speed, like time was about to reverse and spin back. I hoped it would—for a second. But then I heard the thud of the rose hitting the wood of the coffin.
I stepped aside and walked around the grave to stand next to Sophie. She put her arm around me, pulling me to her side.
An old man at the other side of the grave moved forward from the queue to throw a flower into the open grave. His light gray hair was wet from the rain. He looked down at the coffin for a second and then his face snapped up, his golden eyes looking directly into mine. I inhaled deeply.
“Thanks for coming,” I whispered into the cold rain. The old man across the grave nodded at me once, his lips twitching into a sympathetic smile.
“Did you say something?” Sophie asked absentmindedly.
I shook my head. “No.” I watched Jaden turn around and vanish in the crowd.
It seemed like hours as the people threw their roses one after the other. I saw Lydia and Richard and Amber. I recognized Karren, the girl from the semester party in the woods. She smiled at me.
The queue ended after a while—I couldn’t estimate the time—and people were slowly starting to leave the scene. I watched them go, one after the other. They had bade their goodbyes, like I had. And they were now returning to their normal lives, like I would never be able to do again.
I looked at the willow—the tree where I had met Adam first. It stood there in the rain, grieving alongside us. Beside it a young woman with bluish black hair turned around. I only glimpsed her face for a second before she had turned completely, but it was long enough to recognize Adam’s ex-girlfriend’s face. I wasn’t sure if I could trust my wet eyes, but as she turned her jacked slipped a little and freed the view on a big silver amulet that dangled from her neck on a black satin-lace. I blinked to clear my vision but before I could take a second look she had vanished behind a tree.
Red roses lay in a pile on the wooden coffin. I couldn’t even tell which of them was the one I had thrown. I was like the roses, a griever amongst grievers, just someone in the black dressed crowd, one of the many who reminded us why we were standing in the graveyard, in the rain.
* * *
I was standing in the graveyard, next to the beautiful stone angel—again—where it had begun. And there it had ended, after the grievers’ flowers had covered the coffin and soon earth would be covering the flowers, building an impenetrable barrier between my angel—his broken body—and me.
I remembered standing there for a very long time, it had turned almost dark when my sister literally forced me out of the graveyard. She led me to her car, waited for me to climb into the passenger seat, closed the door behind me and got in herself. It wasn’t far to our place, only a few minutes. The car wound slowly along the curved road. I was thankful we didn’t have to hurry. The tiredness crept through my bones as the warm air started to dry my clothes, and my shaking ceased. The engine was a subtle hum, almost comforting.
“What happens now Sophie?”
She turned to look at me, her eyes dark with concern.
“I don’t know.”
I stared out of the window into the growing dark, unseeing.
It was late when we arrived at our place. Sophie opened the door for me, leading me in. I hadn’t recognized in months how caring she was. Sudden shame washed over me. I had been so busy living my dream, living my pain and, now, living my own personal hell. And still she was there at my side, the only family I had left.
“Thank you, Sophie,” I looked at her for a moment, fully appreciating what she had done for me. “—for everything.”
She met my eyes, a faint smile on her lips. “Anytime.”
The graveyard was dimly lit by a flickering lamp. It seemed like ages since I had met Adam there for the first time, so far away it was almost surreal—like a dream, like a nightmare—considering the outcome.
As I walked down the gravel path between the rows of graves, it crushed down on me again. He was dead—that was the final statement heavens had put on our love.
Strange, how suddenly a world can fall apart. Disillusioned and worn from what happened, you don’t expect anything from life anymore—neither good nor bad. And still it hur
ts when the final knowledge settles in, like your heart is torn into pieces while your chest is too tightly bound to have the slightest chance of escaping the countless cuts of the pieces trying to tear through it from the inside. There is no way of evading the aches that inevitably force you to believe what has already been somewhere within you, banned to the darkest corner at the back of your knowledge, whining quietly to be proven wrong.
This is how it felt with Adam. Losing something so pure, so unbelievably wonderful, was like dying myself.
I hadn’t expected myself capable of bearing such a big amount of pain pressing down on me in such a short time, but I found I was. With Sophie, my caring sister, and Jaden, my guardian angel, at my side I had gone through all of it. Somehow I had gotten up the morning after it had happened, and the day after that day, and the ones after those, and so I would do every day—until it was my time to go. If he couldn’t exist, the memories of him would. No matter what happened next, I would have to face it. Without him. Alone.
Epilogue
Adam
Something wet dripping onto my forehead woke me up. I tore my eyes open to look for the source of it.
It was dark—pitch black, to be precise.
I was lying outstretched on my back on something soft. My posture didn’t feel natural.
I wanted to reach my hand over my head to prevent the liquid from dripping into my eyes. It didn’t move. It was stuck between my body and something hard.
My fingers glided over the material. It felt like polished wood.
I tried to shift my body to the other side an inch just to free my hand enough to search for the source of the liquid that soaked my hair and dribbled down my face to my neck.
Another frame of wood was pressing against my side. It prevented me from moving freely.
I slowly and carefully rolled my head to the side—no resistance. Then I lifted it an inch to estimate the space around me. There was no barrier keeping me from moving my head until my chin touched my chest.
The water flowed down my face and into the collar of whatever I was wearing.
With some more effort I pulled my shoulders up and tried to sit up. My arms and hands were freed as I moved up. I let my body sink back and slid my hands upwards instead, along the wood that was framing me. It was cold. Water was beginning to run down in several places.
My wet hands glided further up until they moved over a corner on both sides, forming the wood into a narrow ceiling. Where was I? I asked myself this question and couldn’t find an answer to it. My hands reached up above my head. There, too, was a wooden wall.
It seemed I was trapped in a wooden box and water was starting to make its way in from more than one side. I had no idea where I was nor how I had ended up here.
Cold hysteria welled up inside me. How big was this box? How much air was in here? How long would it last? How long could I survive here?
I sucked in a deep breath in reaction to the limited supply of oxygen. My lungs screamed. It hurt like someone had stabbed me with a knife. I groaned in pain.
It felt like I hadn’t breathed in a while. I tried to think back—nothing.
I gasped for air for a minute, shorter or longer, I had no track of time at all. It took some deep breaths to even my breathing and after a while I started to perceive more than the darkness itself. I suddenly saw the darkness and what lay behind it, I saw the wood, the water dripping in from slits on the sides, I smelled the wood around me, and I smelled wet earth.
Knowing I had to get out of here if I wanted to survive, I screamed for help.
No answer, no noise at all. Nothing but the dripping water.
I balled my hands into fists, wanting to hit the wood above my chest in the hope someone would hear the noise and get me out. I took another deep breath and my hand soared up above my chest. I expected the wood to hurt my knuckles as they hit the surface but I felt nothing but the soft resistance of the wall above me. My hand punched through it effortlessly.
Muddy earth ran down my arm and into the space of the wooden box. I felt stones and grime between my fingers as I stretched them. More earth fell onto my chest as I moved my arm to feel around. It quickly swallowed the air around me.
I had no other choice now but to get out—quick—or I would drown in the mud. I would be buried.
Panicking, I punched the boards above me with my other hand and hit my knees up to break my way through the wood.
A mass of earth rushed down onto my body and I struggled, taking one last deep breath. I tried to move my body as if I was swimming and finally made my way up. After some time my lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, and I became light headed.
I fought against the weight pushing me down, pushing back as hard as possible. I was soaked and stones cut every inch of my skin they could reach as I worked my way up.
Little stars were dancing before my eyes as one of my outstretched hands finally broke free of the earthy mass. I pushed harder and my other hand and my arms followed.
A few seconds later I pulled my head out and inhaled deeply, relieved.
It wasn’t dark here. The moon was shining, tinting everything in a bluish cold light. I looked at the marble gravestone I was facing. It read, Here lies Adam Jonathan Gallager, beloved son and brother.
Thank you for reading White!
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About the Author
“Chocolate fanatic, milk-foam enthusiast and huge friend of the southern sting-ray. Writing is an unexpected career-path for me.”
Angelina J. Steffort was born in 1984. She has multiple educational backgrounds, including engineering, business, music and acting. Angelina writes YA fantasy and paranormal with a strong romance component, and is the author of The Wings Trilogy. Angelina lives in Vienna, Austria, with her husband and her son.
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Also by Angelina J. Steffort
Coming November 2017
White (The Wings Trilogy Book 1) Page 38