March 18, 2006
He was a sobbing mess on the forest ground, fingers tangled in his wild black hair, his sister leaning against a tree only a feet or two away, naked like him, devasted like him, but she was silent.
He could barely hear her breathing.
"Well", somebody said, maybe Paul, maybe not, "Sue can have 'em back now. And just in time for the funeral, too."
The boy pressed his face into the dirt to stifle a desperate wail.
A kick.
A groan.
"Shut up, Paul, will ya?"
"Yeah, you're not helping anyone, idiot."
"Seth, buddy, come on, stand up."
A blanket was thrown over his trembling body and strong hands gripped his shoulder, pulled him up into a sitting position.
"It's three in the morning and if we get going now, we'll be at the house in about half in hour and you and Leah can get a few hours of sleep before ... before the-"
"Funeral."
"Will you ... just leave, Lahote?"
"Fine."
Heavy steps broke through the undergrowth, getting away from them fast.
A sigh.
Then: "Get Seth on his feet, Jared, okay? I'll take care of Leah."
"Sure."
Different hands grabbed him, slim, long fingers, and dragged him to his feet when he didn't react whatsoever to gentle tugs and soft nudges.
"Come on, champ. Time to get you home, yeah? Your Mom's gonna be there and you'll get to sleep in your own bed again. That sounds nice, right? Way better than the cold, dirty forest. No stones poking you, no leaves in your hair."
"I want my Dad."
"Seth ..."
"I want my Dad, I want my Dad, please, Jarr, I just want my Dad."
And tears burned his cheeks, leaving red paths.