Mike sat in his chauffer-driven car, pondering the task that lay ahead of him. It was a cold, winter afternoon, very similar to the one his brother had been born on. But now Mike had fallen to the other extreme. The task was attending his baby brother's funeral.
The politican knew he should cry, look sad at least. But that was not the way any Wooster mourned. The family, as a rule, kept a passive face in the midst of sorros and hid their feelings until they could be expressed in an alternative way. For Ellie, it was drawing small girls, much like that of a paper chain, all holding hands with various different party dresses on. Mike drank brandy or practised calligraphy. Sirius tortured his violin or supressed his feelings even further until they were hidden to everyone minus himself. They then festered, growing stronger as he tried to bottle them up. It was like trying to fit more rubbish into an already overflowing bin by crushing as much of it as possible with one foot. But, as everyone has discovered, no matter how squished, a bin cannot take all the rubbish you wish to fill it with. Eventually, you have to take out the trash. And in an oddly poetic way, Mike decided Sirius must have done that.
His brother was never a happy child. Even before the abuse, he was quiet, withdrawn and liked only the company of himself. Mike and their shared cousins, Marnie, Elizaveta, Sophia and Lorena, sometimes struggled through his carefully erected barriers. Later on, Sookie had shattered them. Out of the 6.5 billion people on the planet, only those few could truly make him smile.
But his brother hadn't smiled for weeks before his demise. Everything he had worked so hard to perfect had gone horribly, terribly wrong. After being released from camp, he had attended Harmony Mackensie Academy, the same school as Sookie and his cousins. Things would have gone perfectly... until the bullying started. Sirius had been bullied before, extensively by his parents but also by others. He was used to it. But Sookie wasn't used to watching her boyfriend suffer every single day. Even teachers at HMA were cruel, Mr Briggins forcing the skinny boy into push-ups until his scar bled through the thin material of his shirt. Eventually, she couldn't take it. Sookie left Sirius three months after he was freed from camp on the basis that 'He wasn't enough. He could never be what she wanted.'
Sirius took her final message to heart. Every day, he altered his apperance, trying to be the boy Sookie dreamt of. He dyed his hair ginger, then blonde, then straightened out his curls until his hair lay flat; wore coloured contacts to hide his silver eyes; changed the style of his clothes. Sirius tried everything. But still she rejected him, despite his six month long efforts. The British teen's heart smashed into a thousand tiny pieces for the last time. There would be no repair.
At the ripe old age of fifteen, Sirius injected himself with lethal amounts of pottasium chloride which he swiped from his science class via the means of a hypodermic needle. The poison stopped his heart in 3 minutes, allowing him enough time to send a final text to Sookie, telling her how he felt. He then played 'Tears Dry On Their Own' by Amy Winehouse as he slipped into a deep slumber of which he would never wake. The body was found seven hours later, Amy Winehouse playlist stuck on 'Love is a Losing Game.' Sirius Kenneth Sherrinford Wooster was announced clinically dead on December 25th 2012. He had finally given up on Christmas Day.
It was now the first day of the New Year. And Mike remained in his car, cursing the old phrase 'Out with the old and in the new'. He didn't want to forget. Sirius was his assistant, his protigee, his friend and his brother. His baby brother. The cold air had steamed up the window, making them opaque. With one finger, Mike traced the childish scribbles left by his brother's fingertips as he had cheekily drawn on a government car. He had drawn a smiley face but drops of moisture had dribbled down the window so it looked like it was crying. Mike turned away, close to tears. The car slowed to a stop. It was now. It had started.
Gripping his umbrella handle tightly, Mike allowed the door to be opened for him and stepped out into the chilling air. The sickly scent of lilies was heavy in the air. Mike felt ill but it wasn't because of the flowers. He had seen the faces of the mourners. Sookie and her mother were distraught, tears running down their freckled faces. Elizaveta looked composed, unsure of what to do or say but managing to look heartbroken at the same time. Ed held the smaller girl's hand, looking upset. Magnet was acting as a comfort to Sookei but he too looked alone and miserable. Christian was solemn, standing away from the rest of the crowd as a sign of respect. On the other hand, his mother was looking oddly pleased, surpressing a gloating smile. Mike failed to see how anyone could smile. This was a sad event. Elivra was holding her mother's hand demanding to see Siri, as she called him. Anna's grip was as strong as an iron vice.
Sirius had always been different and his funeral had respected his personality. He was not buried of cremated but lain in an open coffin, dressed in his favourite clothes, a purple shirt and skinny jeans, long black coat and scarf over the top as if his dead body could feel the winter chill. His prized violin cradled in his arms and his deerstalker cap had been placed on his head, covering his raven curls. Amongst the many white flowers (Mike had counted several roses, a tulip or two, a single carnation and hundreds of lilies), Sirius' edition of 'The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes' had been nestled next to his foot, nudging at his ankle. His brother's eyes were shut, as if he were sleeping. Mike wished his brother was only asleep, that he would sit up and be confused at the tears of his friends. But all through the service, his body hadn't even twitched. Sirius was dead and it was time to lay him to rest.
The coffin Sirius lay in was gently lowered into the lake that the service had taken place by. A million ripples scattered across the water. Then, using Sirius' lighter, Sookie threw a piece of paper onto the flowers, allowing them to catch fire. Whilst burning, Sirius' coffin was pushed out into the middle of the lake, where it drifted peacefully. The flames ingulfed the aspiring detective's body in a proper Viking funeral and Mike swore he heard his brother laughing. A memory flashed into his mind.
A nine year old Mike and two year old Sirius were playing in the garden, running around the cherry tree in the garden, chasing a cricket ball. The spring sunshine was lighting up the scene, warming them. Both the brothers were laughing, no strict parents to order them around, no staff to bother them. Sirius made grabby hands at his older sibling, wanting to be picked up. Mike easily picked up the small child and lifted him onto his shoulders. The slightly chubby toddler giggled and held tightly onto his brother, trusting him completely. Mike began to spin in circles and walk around, allowing his brother to feel king of the world. Neither of them wanted to good feeling they had to go away. But, like all things, it ended far too soon as one of the maids called them in for Latin studies.
The memory faded and Mike was aware of hot tears on his face. In a way, he was glad of them. They proved he was human, not a machine like his mother seemed to be. Glancing up at the sky as the lights began to fade, he saw a single star outshining the rest. And he had studied Astronomy as a boy. He knew that was Sirius. Mike gave a small smile. His brother had done it.
Sirius was finally a star.
