Abalia gently positioned herself in the uncomfortable onyx attire. She lightly ran her hands over the black cotton fabric, before brushing it across the top of her leg, letting her action result in a shiver. Feeling bare, she pulled the shawl tighter around her naked shoulders. Taking one quick glance in the mirror, Abalia made her way out the side door. She gracefully walked to the car, before delicately entered the limo zine, the father behind her. Sitting across from the parents she waited for the limo zine to slowly pull out, and begin its daunting course.
Achan watched intently, from the church window, as the limo zine arrived. Abalia exited the car alongside the parents. As the man put his arm firmly around her shoulders he took his wife's hand with his other. The woman drew a tissue from her pocket and blew as the three entered the church.
Achan returned to his seat on the edge of the casket directly above the boy's head. He liked being able to watch and not have others return the favor. "Wow that is so fake." He said poking the fake skin. "They could at least try and get my nose right." He laughed. Achan let his eyes leave his fake body to watch Abalia as she claimed a place in the front row, staring at the ground.
The ceremony seemed as if it would never end. Achan wondered about her, Abalia, was she aching with a deep pain as she made her way up to the open casket? Was it perhaps regret, she felt? No, or even better... was it guilt?! Achan enclosed himself in his thoughts to focus on the glorious event taking place.
Abalia glanced at the parents; before she set her gaze onto her brother's closed eyes. He noticed that she didn't look hurt in the way he wanted; instead, she seemed numb about the whole ordeal. Peculiar.
As the ceremony ended Achan jumped off the casket and walked to preserve his place in the limo zine as the people talked for a bit. He decided to take a seat next to where Abalia had been sitting earlier, and continued to observe her. Minutes passed before they arrived at the grave site. As the driver opened the door Achan climbed out quickly behind Abalia and stumbled a bit as he stepped onto the grass. He waited as the mother and father got out of the automobile after the father. Achan decided to follow closely behind them as they walked to the grave site, preparing to bury the son. Achan tried to connect with Abalia's feelings; they were not clear on her visage. He felt a sudden wind of pain and tried to make it go away, but the pain was beginning to spread throughout his body, contagiously. Now he was the one trying to numb it.
Finally making it to the chairs, they took their places silently. Achan stood beside Abalia's seat on the end of the row, before sitting in the middle of the aisle, crossing his legs. The pastor said a prayer for the boy, asking Zeus to remember the favorable deeds in his life, and to pass over the ill-intentions. Hearing the prayer, an aura of incredulity and desolation imprisoned Achan; he could see that the feeling took a hold on Abalia simultaneously. A strong gust of wind blew, whispering his name clearly; the gentle yet firm voice gave him assurance. Afraid, Achan stumbled back, as if he was trying to escape the voice, yet it intrigued him. He wanted to hear it again. No! He rebuked the temptation, but she didn't. Abalia accepted it.
When the pastor's prayer was completed, the mother's tears began to flow profusely, as the casket was laid in the ground. A justified satisfaction overcame Achan, as soon as it came, he knew he should've dismissed it, but decided not to. He looked at Abalia, expecting a reaction; there wasn't one. Her face stood still, her eyes refusing to blink, and her posture flawless. She looked so perfect that it almost gave her away, almost. He wished he could say that she missed him, but like her expressions, her emotions were void. He couldn't read her.
One by one they had their time to lay gifts of flowers and memories on the newly turned soil. It was first Abalia's turn; Achan raised his left eyebrow curiously as he watched her. He stood up and walked beside her as she went in front of the parents and guests at the funeral. She stared at the closed casket, Achan saw tears well up in her eyes, and as she walked out into the chilled afternoon.
"Wait, Balia!" the mother cried out, the father let Abalia go and held his wife close as she sobbed into his shirt. Achan ignored them as he walked closely behind Abalia, amused, the afternoon only getting colder.
She reached a tree, not too far away, and began to climb. Settling in a spot, she tried to remember him. Achan bore into her brain, and as he retrieved her thoughts, he joined her mind. The two siblings sat in the tree, side by side, and allowed their legs to dangle below them. As he sat beside her he continued to search her mind. Finally finding them, he observed attentively as her memories began.
I could sense him, though my eyes failed to see. I knew he wanted my mind, my memories, naturally I complied. As he once more tried to enter, I let him in.
