Legacy // H.S

1.

'Always quiet

Always quiet now

Always silent

Always silent now'

*

It seems a contradiction to find peace in a graveyard. Yet, that is all I feel right now. There is no malice or melancholy, no quiet frustration or pain. Only complete ease, for the first time in months. I find myself focusing on the birds that fly above us, the subtle sound of the breeze, the heat of the sun; and through all of this, I am calm.

In the ground below us there are those in an eternal slumber, living in the peaceful dreams of their happiness. Behind those closed eyes are scenes of pure delight and contentment. Perhaps they are with loved ones, or they're off on their great adventures through the unknown. No longer must they battle their demons, because they're finally freed from the shackles that tied them to their past. All they have is an infinite future.

Standing here, their rest brings me comfort, too. I can feel the calm that seeps into the ground, a blissful release of any fear or indiscretion. In this graveyard, while there may be sadness waiting above the graves from those that miss their loved ones, below is only a sense of joy. Death can bring such peace to those that need it.

But I shouldn't be calm.

I should be crying. I should be screaming. I should be throwing every object in sight while I curse those that have brought us here today. But I'm not. I don't have the energy for it anymore; I couldn't react if I tried.

Even in the week since the incident, there hasn't been an overload of emotions. Instead, we are numb. After months of fighting, months of trying to launch a counterattack and stand our ground, our palace walls were breached and one of our own was taken. Their life was snatched away from them, and even in the torment of their actions, none of us knows how to process the loss.

Whenever we're near one another, our faces are blank, and our eyes are tired. We do not sleep or eat, we barely talk. How can we when nothing will undo the damage that has occurred? We could rebuild whatever burned but it will not change the course of events.

George is dead.

I held his hand as he took his last breath, waiting in anticipation for the final toll of the bell in his life. And then, as if we didn't care for his path to another life, we had to leave his pale, weak body in the debris so we could escape the authorities and the potential of another attack. We weren't allowed time to process it, or to even consider how we could possibly recover from such a loss; we had to immediately move on, as if grief were a steppingstone and could be easily vanquished.

And now we stand in this graveyard, watching a funeral we haven't been invited to from a distance, completely in silence.

Silence often brought me solace, but it also gave me fear. These days, it's such a scary sound.

Today, four of us stand in the cemetery. Me, Harry, Babz and Niall. Zayn is still recovering from his injuries in hospital. He had been put into a medically induced coma to help his body heal from the trauma for a few days, but he woke up this morning. Still slightly groggy and clearly in a lot of pain, but he's alive. That's what matters. If we lost another person that day, I'm not sure how any of us would have coped. Doctors said if he was brought in any later, he almost certainly would have died. That weight has hung over our shoulders since.

Despite our attempts, Louis refused to join us. In fact, he's not said a word to us since the incident. But it's hardly a surprise. After George died, we had to physically drag him from his body to the car and lock him in as he desperately tried to escape and return to his lost love. He kicked and screamed, gave every insult under the Sun, but we had no choice. We needed to get out of there.