Chapter 1.
Evie Hunter stood next to the freshly filled grave, staring with tear filled eyes at the new, and older headstones. The wind whipped her red hair across her face, the slight drizzle in the air dampening it and the overused black dress she was wearing. Nobody was around her anymore; they had left almost an hour before. Each person had approached her; hugged her or patted her shoulder, told her how very sorry they were for her loss; how for a girl of 17 she had been through too much. Too much loss for even people double her age, for people who have had the chance to live life to the fullest, to even comprehend how she felt.
She walked, stopping in front of the centre of the headstones, and knelt down in the damp, muddy grass. Placing the white roses she held in her hand on each of the headstones she mumbled words of love, and loneliness. Standing up with a new sense of determinism she gave one last look at the graves before turning around and walking away. As she did, she made a promise. A promise to her family, her friends, and herself. A promise she vowed to never break.
"Never again."
When I was five my mother fell pregnant. When I was six, the baby died, and my mother became ill. When I was eight, my mother's illness killed her. When I was eleven, my father was in a car accident and died. When I was fourteen, my grandma, who had been looking after my brother and I since our father's death, passed away. A year later, when I was fifteen, my grandfather joined her. Now, I'm seventeen, and standing at the fresh grave of my brother; my last living relative. Now, I'm alone.
That's why I know this is my fault. Everybody I get close to, everyone I love or care for always dies. I practically set Death a place at the dinner table, waiting for him to choose his next victim. First the baby, then my mum, my dad, my grandparents, my friends and now; now Death has taken the last family member I had; my big brother. He had looked after us after our grandparents died, he stuck up for me at school when people teased me. He didn't hate me like everyone else after...
Running my hands through my hair I decided this would never happen again. Never again would someone I love die. Never again would I have to wear this black dress. Never again would I have to stand and watch as someone I love was lowered into the ground. Never again would I have to be called to the Headmasters office, and be confronted by the scene I have become so accustomed to. Never again would anybody suffer on my account, because I'm sure it must be something to do with me. Nobody else has lost their whole family and best friends, all before their 18th birthday. Never again will I be the one left alive on Earth. The next funeral I attend will be own.
Walking through the front door of my house, I can feel the difference already. Other then me there is no living being in this house. It may sound crazy, but it feels like even the house is grieving. Or maybe that's just because of how I feel. I walk into the lounge, drop my keys in the key dish and kick my shoes off. Sitting down on the edge of the sofa I stare into space. I can feel the tears burning in my eyes, but I won't cry. I cried when I found out. I always cry when I find out, but never again, not at the funeral, and not after. I hardly cried at TV shows or movies. I had learnt very quickly that tears were not to be wasted on trivial things. I still slipped up every now and then, when something reminds me of one of the people I've lost.
After the funerals I always felt the same. I know exactly how my emotions are going to go for the next week; for now time will stop, as soon as I go back to school the day will be far too quick, then I will come home, where time will slow. I'll become a recluse, which will help this time. Then, I'll laugh. I'll laugh over something stupid and small; something that's probably not even funny. Then I'll feel guilty. Then for a while I'll feel nothing, become numb, until one day a single emotion will break through and slowly, over time, I'll become me again. Me with a whole other person missing from my life. This time I have no one to turn to though, no one to seek comfort through. Maybe that will be a blessing.
As soon as I get back to school, I won't talk to anyone. I'll answer my name when the teacher takes attendance, I'll do my homework, and school work to the best of my ability, I'll sit by myself at lunch and break. I won't interact with anybody. For a week or so I imagine it'll be easy; I never notice anyone after, but when that passes I'll have to be strong. I'll have to remember people that die when they get close to me. I'll have to remember that I can't do this again, that I can't be the sole survivor when another loved one dies.
Standing up, I began to devise a plan; tomorrow I would stay on the sofa curled in my duvet all day, the next day I would go back to school, and next week when I go back to work I'll save all of my wages to pay the bills of this house. I wouldn't need money to go out, so food and bills are what my wages will be going on. I walked up the stairs to my room, deciding against a shower, I just want to go to bed. I can shower in the morning. A part of me is so thankful to my brother for deciding to book our shopping. Now, every two weeks freezer food and treat food will be delivered, with basics and essentials being delivered weekly. He's already paid for the next six months of groceries thanks to a huge bonus and savings. It's almost as if he knew he would die.
Shaking that terrifying thought from my mind, I walked through my bedroom door, pushing it to a close behind me and rifled through my drawers for a set of pyjamas. Quickly changing I threw my mourning clothes into my washing basket. Thinking again, I grabbed them and threw them in the bin. I won't need them again. I collapsed on my bed, wrapping myself in my duvet and closed my eyes, hoping for a dreamless sleep. That isn't what I got. I dreamt of crows, glistening blue eyes in the darkness, fog and a lone wolf howl.
(EDITED)