The Funeral

There is rain pounding on the thatched roof that could only be characteristic of a funeral. The weather matched Amoura's mood so perfectly she barely noticed it. Everything was dark and damp and cold and miserable, it seemed perfectly natural to be mourning a loss. She sat on a stiff wooden chair in the Depin's kitchen, avoiding the minute the guests would arrive. In front of her was a steaming untouched mug of tea, and the only likeness of Trustar ever taken. She was caught between the yearning and fresh hurt her heart felt looking at it, and the strange comfort of seeing his face again. She could hear her mother and Mrs. Depin conversing in the hall behind the closed door of the kitchen. She had been dreading this day for weeks now, but would be happy when it was over. As she sat and listened to the volume grow behind the closed door, her thoughts turned unwilling to her wedding day and she watched as it played before her eyes. She watched Trustar smile at her and his lips form the words and his expression change ever so slightly as the light went out of his eyes and he fell to the ground. She had been reliving that nightmare in her mind ever since it happened and wondered if there would come a day when she wouldn't think of it at all.
The door opened and her mother hesitantly peeked her head in.
"Amy, there are some people who would like to see you dear. Do you think you can come and greet them?" She was hesistant, not sure of her daughters' emotions of late, since she kept them so closely guarded to herself.
Amoura took a deep breath and gently pushed the chair back from the table. Straightening her shoulders she walked past her mother's pitying gaze into the sea of black clothing that was her friends and family, come to express their sorrow for her.

It seemed as though the whole village had turned out. Amoura was sure that everyone in the small cottage had been present at her wedding. They had all been wishing her the best less than three weeks ago. No one could have forseen these circumstances. They all regarded her carefully, some afraid to touch her, some pulling her too close. The black was everywhere and constantly reminded her that she was at a funeral. Neighbors and friends and people from the market and extended family, all were present but no one carried a distinction for Amoura. They all blended together, their tears and kind words, until she felt as though she was in a dream. Only one stood out from the crowd; Peter had been a good friend of hers since they were young, and though the wedding plans had taken her from his company for some time now, he was still the closest person to her in the room after her family. For some reason seeing him looking at her with such sadness seemed to make the whole situation crushingly real and for the first time that day her eyes became wet and she couldn't meet his gaze.
"Am, I don't even know what to say" he told her gently. He hesitated while she nodded and looked at the ground, a little ashamed of her sudden emotion, and then he carefully pulled her in to his arms and held her perfectly. She cried silent tears into his shoulder and held on to her dear friend.

inexplicable

A feeling of dull foreboding lies at the back of my mind the day before the wedding. I can't explain it to anyone, and I know it's just nerves, so I don't say anything. My mother has been busy with planning this whole month, even since we announced our engagement, which came as no surprise to anyone in the town. She flies from the stove top to the table, where she has laid all her plans, making dinner for my father and brother, while trying to finalize a guest list. I let her work without much involvement on my part, I have no talent for planning and she is enjoying herself. She only has one daughter and intends to make this perfect.

Trustar has left himself out of the planning as well. He is busy with his family and their farm. They are at the most important time in their harvest, and even the girls are helping every day. It will be done in time for the wedding and he says the long days keep his mind from worrying. But Trustar is not a worrier. He has a silent faith that we will be fine and I'm not sure where it comes from. He has always been calm and together, a trait I have never accomplished. I have always worried because to me there are so many things that could go wrong. Whenever I tell him this he laughs at me, not mockingly, but lovingly.

"Ammy, there are also so many things that could go right." He leans down to tie the strings on the bundle of hay he's pulling together, but I can see him smile. I am still not consoled. He doesn't miss my expression.

"Of course, I can't reasure you too much, what would you worry about then?" He throws the bundle into the pile I'm sitting in and it lands beside me. Dust is thrown up into the sunlight and swirls in patterns I can see. For a moment Trustar is lit in the glow of late afternoon sunlight that come in through the door and the little particles dance around him. His outline stands with his hands on his hips, surveying his work. He then turns to me.

"Let's go in and tell them we called the whole thing off."
I sigh. "My mother would have a heart attack."
He starts towards the barn door. "And I will laugh at the look on their faces."
I have not left the hay stack, still in thought over my worries. He turns at the door and looks back. I wonder what he's thinking when he holds out his hand for me to join him. My mood changes instantly. In moments like these I feel content and at peace because I know in my heart that he loves me as much as I love him, and I take on his certainty, because what could possibly happen to two people so much in love?

There are some people in this world that are the purest representation of innocence. To witness their heart breaking is uncomfortable and makes us cringe in ways we did not know existed. It makes us feel as though there is something wrong with the very fabric of time and space, that this creature should have to have an expression filled with such sorrow. It might be someone we know, or a stranger who we can tell is in distress and shouldn't be.

The truth is horrible things happen to good people.

It is this knowledge that makes us want to help those in distress, naturally, it should be our human condition to be made to take action when another is unhappy. This is what should be.
But some things are not human, and even humans can be inhuman. And what we thought should happen doesn't always, whether or not someone deserves it.

Horrible things happen to good people. Sometimes it is simply because they don't deserve it. It has always been my belief that bad things happen to good people because they can recover from these events and build upon them. It takes character and strength to come out of the depths of despair and good people are often the only ones strong enough to accomplish it.

The Days Pass

There is something comforting in a repetitive task that brings calm to stirred thoughts. In the months that followed Trustar's sudden death I found that these things were all that kept me alive, more than my mother's constant caring and worried face. Her features crumple when she sees me though she hides it behind a facade of smiles. Her words are too bright when she speaks to me, and I want to flinch when she forces a laugh. I cannot hurt her though, she does so much for me and loves me so, but no one can help me. My father didn't know how to deal me and left me to my own whenever possible. His once kind face and familiar attitude became stiff and brisk. 

"Please --- don't ---- leave---"

Trustar was back at her side, hesitant about what to do. "Amy I think you should sit up, but I don't know, I don't know what to do."

With his help she slowly rose and leaned against his side, while he held her weight with his shoulder. Her breath was still uneven and the sharp intakes of air were not helping the pains in her side. "Amy, you have to calm down." He held her firmly and counted when she breathed in and then out. Slowly it returned to normal, even though the pain was still there it was easier to manage now that she wasn't close to histerics. 

"Better?"

"Yes, I think I can stand."

"I can go get someone to-"

"No. I'll manage."

Amoura tried not to cry out in pain, tried to be brave and not let Trustar think she was weak, but her side was on fire. Every time she tried to breath a searing pain ripped through her broken ribs. Unable to hold it in, she let a heavy sob escape but it only made the pain worse. Trustar was suddenly at her side. 

"Amoura!" He hovered above her, unsure of what to do. She was loosing control of her breathing, letting it become more desperate and faster, a panic rose inside her mind. Pain was taking over rationality. There was a hand on her back. 

"Amoura, listen to me, I think you should take some deep breaths."

her eyes shut tight, she tried to master the sobs coming out, but to no avail. Between gulping down air, she tried to tell him she couldn't. 

"I'm going to go get help, I'll be right back don't worry." But before he could stand from where he was kneeling beside her, she had managed to grab his arm and shake her head. The thought of being alone was unbearable. 

yes, I am aware that I have shifted from first person to omniscient narration.

"Hurry up!"

" You wait for me, I'm not as fast as you! It isn't fair!"

Frustrated, Amoura pulled her skirts up higher over her heavy boots and tried to catch up to Trustar, who was impossibly ahead on the path. The sun shone high in the sky though the wind still carried a chill with it and blew through her thin coat making her shiver. The grass was starting to turn from dull brown to a bland green and would be bright emerald in a few weeks time. The last of the snow mounds had melted away the last week, and the ground was still hard in some places, muddy and soft in others. Rocks dotted the landscape, and Trustar climbed a large boulder while he waited for Amoura. Though only slightly over six feet, it was an effort for this ten year old self to reach the top of the small stone structure. When he did, he took some great gulps of air and stood proudly with his hands on his hips, looking out over the taller mountains as if he had conquered them all. Finally Amoura drew near. 

"Took you long enough, I've been waiting for ages." Trustar said down to her. 

Amoura started climbing the rocks to reach him and prove herself, but her legs were restricted by her dress and she found it harder to find footholds. More than once she slipped and caught her breath in a gasp. 

Though they were the same height, Amoura maybe even slightly taller, Trustar was the more powerful and when they went out playing in the hills like now, he always lead the way. Amoura didn't mind that so much, as long as he didn't make her feel too inadequate. 

"Here." And he offered her his hand for the last push to the top to join him. Amoura dusted off her hands and both of them turned to look out across the mountains. 

"Makes you feel like you're standing at the edge of the world, doesn't it?"

There was something about looking out over the sheer expanse of land and feeling so small. It could be very overwhelming unless there was someone there beside you. 

"I like it." Amoura said boldly, trying to sound like nothing could scare her. "it makes me feel as though I could do anything. As though anything were possible, even flying."

"I suppose so." They stood there for a minute in silence, thinking different thoughts. 

"Come on, let's go up there." Trustar pointed to point not far up the mountain where there was a place to look out over the valley where their town resided. 

The way down was slippery on the other side, more of the rocks had come loose and though Trustar hopped nimbly down in a matter of leaps, Amoura hesitated before take her steps. Halfway down she tried to go faster, lest Trustar get impatient again and go on without her. 

In her haste, she put her foot down on a rock that shifted under her weight, and lost her balance. Rolling down the hill, she went out of control, past Trustar and straight into a sharp rock half buried in the ground, breaking two ribs. 

He has left me

Trustar falls to the ground as soon as the words have left his lips. A final breath, his eyes close and he crumples to the earth. As it sinks in that I have looked at his face alive for the last time, the ground vanishes beneath me. I feel like I can join him on this new level of life he has gone to, but I cannot follow. And I know this. 

They will tell me later that my father ran forward to catch me before I fell. That I wanted to stay with Trustar, but they would not let me touch the body. I did not scream, I barely wept, I don't remember any of this. They lead me silently back down the aisle and guided me home. Throughout the carriage ride and the people starring as I went past, I think I can recall wondering where he had gone. I was angry at one point, for he had left me when he had no right to. Hadn't he promised he would be there always? And now he was gone forever and what was I supposed to do? There would always be this hole in my center, in my soul, where he should have been. 

I remember realizing I was starting to grieve, just as my mother lead me into the house. It so happens the moment I crossed the threshold I came to understand the full impact of what had happened and I stopped being angry and confused and this overwhelming wave of sadness and loss ripples through me. I can't breath at first, I can't think any thoughts other than intense loss. So many things will change forever and I have no control. I panic and still can't breath, but my mother takes my hands in hers and makes me look at her. 

"Amoura." She says sternly but gently. "You will survive this my love. I know you feel as though you cannot continue without him, but you will. You will survive for him. You have to. I'm so sorry."

Her voice breaks and I sink into despair. 

I stay in that state for 2 years. 

The First Meeting

In the beginning there was a boy and a girl of a young age. Though they were not by any means the richest people in the land, they lived comfortably and their income came from their families hard work. Both born in the same small village where their ancestors had once lived, they became friends when they were only 3 years old, when Trustar was learning to talk and Amoura was still quiet.

Their respective families were at the market with the rest of the town in the early morning and it was Amoura's first time at the busy stalls. At first she was frightened of all the people and the creatures making so much noise, there was too much going on and she was used to small numbers of people she was familiar with, not large crowds of strangers. As she felt her heart quicken with panic, her mother drew her close and explained that these were her friends and not strangers. There was her neighbour, Mrs.Harvey, with her flower stall. Amoura recognized the bright blossoms that ran along the border of their property with hers, and the aroma was calming. Mrs.Harvey smiled and put a daisy in Amoura's small hand.
"What do you say honey?" But Amoura stayed silent and looked at her flower with deep interest. Her mother sighed.
"I'm sorry she's still not speaking. I don't know what else to do."
"Think nothing of it Rosa, she's still a sweet little thing. I'm sure any day now she'll just start chirping like a bird and you'll think back to this wistfully."
" I hope you're right." And she thanked Mrs.Harvey for the flower and took Amoura back to their own stall where her father was selling their cloth. Her father was wrapping a large bolt of wool in a deep indigo for the old Mr. Yew, who Amoura also recognized because he had helped her father with an ill sheep last month. He was a kind man whose eyes crinkled when he smiled, just as he was now looking down at Amoura. She regarded him warily, but then couldn't help but smile.
"Oh little lady, what have you got there?"
Amoura held out the daisy to him, and he leaned down to sniff it. "Very pretty. Here darling, such pretty things should go together." And he took the flower and gently placed it in her hair. "Lovely. Thanks Nathan, I'll see you next week then."
Amoura waited patiently on a overturned crate as her mother and father tended to the small stall and their customers, swinging her small legs over the edge of the wooden box and watching the people go by. Finally her father had a free moment. He came over and picked her up, " hello my flower. I have someone I want you to meet. Rosa, I'm going to go introduce her to the Depinds youngest, I don't believe they've met yet."
Her mother was folding cotton. "Try and get her to speak Nathan. I still haven't heard her say a word."
Her father carried her away through the tall stalls full of different smells and colours. "You take your time love," he said gently so only she could hear. "I know you'll be ready soon enough, maybe you'll find you like this fellow enough to say hello? He's your age and I've seen him here a few times now. His parents run the vegtable stand up here. Hello Jacob, how is the business today? I've brought my daughter who is looking for a friend, I wonder if you can help me?"
Jacob returned the knowing smile and called out a small boy from behind the back of a stack of crates. The boy had dark hair and dark eyes lined with thick lashes. He was friendly and immediatly said hello in an older tone and manner than was expected for his age. When Amoura's father set her down in front of her, they were the same height.

Teaser

Slowly I summon the courage to open my eyes, only to close them quickly. The sunlight burns and I need a moment to adjust. But the suspense is too much. 

I know this place, I've walked this path. Where am I?

I feel eyes upon me. There is someone watching me. As if I am pulling myself from the grave I bring together the effort to lift my head and push my shoulders off the dirt road. And I know who is watching me. He is a figure known to every living this from the moment it is born. As familiar as one's mother. 

I am at once both scared and calm, incredibly, unthinkably. For I know he cannot hurt me even more than before.

Before what?