Life is a Song
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Days passed and the day had finally come.
A mass of black stood upon green grass below the gray clouds that leaked with droplets of water. Separate heaps of spaced out stones tore through the ground, some old with cracks and un-eligible writing. Some new.
The crowd surrounded a box, the color a sleek, glossy black. Handles on each vertical side and a line separating two sections of the large box; a coffin.
Inside lay a woman of her late twenties. Makeup smothered her once natural beauty, wearing only the finest of clothes with the best material that would go great with her slender body and smooth, pale skin.
She looked so alive. It would appear so from a distance had not there been stitches that lined the front of her neck which was created by the blade of a hunters knife only just a week and half ago.
Friends and family were circled around the box as it lowered six feet into the earth.
The sounds of sobs echoed into the still air.
A small child gripped tight to an older woman's death colored dress, her fingers clenched so tight it wrinkled the long material. Tears fell from her chocolate orbs and landed on the grass below.
The woman held on tightly to the small toddler, fighting back tears to be strong for the young one in her arms.
She pushed the girls head into her chest, fearing she would turn her head and watch the lowering of her mother.
Layla Heartfilia; a kind young woman.
A mother and wife taken to soon.
She married a man of high wealth when only seventeen, due to her being the heir of her fathers business.
Four years later she conceived and gave birth to a healthy, beautiful baby girl. A splitting image of her mother she was. Same muddy brown eyes, blonde hair like the sun and soft pale skin.
Her husband was a strong happy man that had already taken over the family business in his mid twenties, when he had married Layla.
He did his part but made time for his family as well.
He loved his wife, his daughter.
Layla made him happy. . . and that was taken away when she was brutally murdered.
The light faded from his grey eyes, a frown on his thin lips and furrowed brows.
Their daughter he neglected, letting the maids take care of his young five year old. She looked to much like his wife for him to bare it, it pained him every time he looked at her.
The man stole a glance in her direction.
Lucy.
Lucy's pained sobs continued to grow louder and louder, the pain of losing her mother burned to much to control for a girl so small and fragile.
Looks were thrown her way, all pained and sorrowful except one. Her fathers angered face had stuck out like a red rose in a meadow of white lilies.
The maid holding Lucy; Miss Spetto, turned and walked away with the girl in a vice like grip in her arms.
She took hurried steps back down the hill of the Heartfilia cemetery that was located within the large estate.
Making it back to the overly sized home, she set little Lucy down once inside the girls room.
She ducked down to Lucy's level. "Everything is going to be okay, Lucy." She spoke in a shaken whisper.
She didn't listen to the older woman's words as tears continued to fall.
Miss Spetto stripped the girl of her dark colored dress, switching it out for a baby pink nightgown.
She helped the five year old into her satin covers, planting a kiss to her forehead.
"Rest now dear one, when you wake tomorrow you will feel no more pain." With that she turned off the side table lamp and slipping out the oak wooden door.
She collapsed then, tears finally spilling from her tired, wrinkled eyes.
Layla was gone and she entrusted her daughter to the old maid if something were to ever happen to her and Jude.
Yes Lucy's father was still around but, he let go of his precious little girl.
She stood from the floor and went straight to her room of many years.
A new day would come and everything would be fine once again. Won't it?
okay so. . .I hope you enjoyed this chapter. See next time I update, hopefully I'll have an updating schedule by then. Well farewell for now and please ignore any spelling mistakes.