"We are gathered here today, not to celebrate, but to mourn. A death is a tragedy that is difficult to get through, but we can be good neighbors to the families whom have suffered the loss of a loved one. Now, let us all hold hands and pray for Moritz Stiefel, who we will always hold close in our hearts."
My hands are grasped by Anna and Hanschen, who look solemn. Across the cemetery, I can see Wendla, Thea and Ilse sitting together. Ilse came back last week. She hasn't spoken to anyone but Wendla since she returned, none of us know why. And Wendla. She looks pale, so pale, and beads of sweat make their way down her head, even though it is a cool afternoon. Perhaps she is coming down with a fever.
"Thank you. Now, will all the children please come up, one by one, to pay their respects to a lost friend?" The Father Kahlbach pauses and looks at us. "Herr, Stiefel, would you like to begin?"
Herr Stiefel nods sullenly and goes to the front to pick out a garland of flowers. He walks slowly towards the pit in the ground where we all know Moritz lies. We watch, anticipating his next move. Herr Stiefel was never known to have been a kind man. On the contrary, he had a reputation for being the strictest father in the village. He pauses, watching it, and makes to put it in, but only to back away slowly instead.
He looks at Frau Gabor in a panic. She nods and walks closer, picking up her own bunch of flowers and taking Herr Stiefel's place.
"I'm sorry." She whispers, as the flowers fall into the hole.
Next to go up is Anna. She trembles and shakes as she picks a flower and drops it in. She looks over at her Mama, who nods in approval, then walks back to her seat next to me.
"Martha?" Father Kahlbach nods at me and I realize that I'm next. I get to my feet, trying to ignore the eyes watching me.
I choose some blue flowers, to match Moritz's blue eyes, then walk over to the side of the hole and look in.
There he is. He looks just the same, only his eyes are closed and there is a bandage wound round his head.
"Moritz." Is the only thing I can whisper and I drop the flower in. It lands in the middle of his chest, giving the impression that he is holding it.
Fighting back tears, I make my way to my seat and sit down slowly. Hanschen goes up next, followed by Ernst and Otto. Then Wendla walks up and picks up a pink flower. As she walks to the pit, I follow her eyes, and she is looking at Melchior. But that look. It was so longing, so confused. She moved to the pit and dropped it in, without looking at Moritz. I look back at Melchior. He is staring at Herr Stiefel with a look that can only be described as pure hatred. It was understandable why. Among the children, it was understood that Moritz's father was the reason for his death.
Thea, then Georg walk up to put their flowers in. Ilse then goes and chooses a deep purple flower. She loves those flowers. No-one knew the name of them when she asked, so she calls them Purple Summers. She pads her way softly to the grave and looks down. I crane to see her face but her long, thick hair covers it from view. She raised one arm out and drops it in, before backing away like she had just been stung. She walks away, but instead of sitting back next to Wendla, she goes through the crowd and through the graves, until she finds a tree, and settles herself under it, her head in her hands.
Melchi then walks over to the pit and drops in a large white flower, his face solemn.
Herr Stiefel waddles over to the pit, his now wilted flower still in his hand. He looks at it for a while, his face unreadable, slowly extends his arm and drops it in. Then, as if someone struck him, his hands clasp his chest and he sinks to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably. There's a silence as we watch, dumbfounded. Frau Gabor hurries over to the pit and helps him up, comforting him all the way back to his seat.
"And now, let us all rise and say a prayer." Father Kahlbach says, raising his hands. We stand and begin.
"For he that spurns the grace with which the Eternal Father blesses all that are born in sin, he shall die the death of the spirit. He who has lived steeped in evil and, in his pride, denies the worship due to God, he shall die the death of the body. But he who has wickedly cast off the cross that the Almighty has lain upon his back for his sins, with the utmost veracity I say to you, he shall die the eternal death. Let us, we who continue to walk this path of thorns, praise the All Merciful Lord and thank him for the ineffable gift of predestination. For as surely as this boy dies the three-fold death, as surely will the Lord God lead us to salvation and eternal life."
But I can't concentrate. I keep on looking at Ilse. I slip out of my seat and manage to get round the adults without being seen. There she is, sitting under the trees, obviously crying.
"Ilse!" I cry, running towards her. She looks up and quickly hides her face, but I have already seen it. Her eyes are red and her hair sticks around her face.
"What is it, Martha?" She asks, an irritated tone to her voice.
"I just thought that I would come and sit with you, you seemed upset." I plop down next to her. "Do you want to talk about it?"
She looks at her knees. "I talked to him. The other day. I was just walking away when he did it. I even heard the gunshot."
"What?" I am shocked to hear it. "You talked to him?"
"Yes. My Mama told me that it wasn't my fault, that he was gone anyway…"
"What do you mean?" I interrupt her, moving onto my knees. "You had a chance to stop him and you didn't?"
She looks at me, frightened. "No, it wasn't like that!"
"It's your fault he's dead, isn't it?" I suddenly say, staring at her, everything coming to me. "You didn't stop him, so now he's gone! It's all your fault!"
I'm starting to shout now. I am so livid. It was all Ilse.
"No!" She cries. "Please don't say that!"
"You left me behind!" I rise to my feet and look down at her. "I was hurting as much as you were and you left without me! You saved yourself and didn't come back for me!"
She looks close to tears again now. I should really stop but I can't. I'm so angry.
"You had a chance to help me live as well and you forgot me!" I shout, pacing around. "And now you do the same to Moritz!"
"Martha, I'm sorry." She whispers.
I look at her. "I thought you were my friend, Ilse." I say, walking off.
Moritz, Moritz, where are you?
Why did you have to leave?
A/N This one was quite fun to write, actually. I got a lot of ideas from the original play, by Frank Wedekind, for instance the prayer. Actually, at the end of this scene in the play, Martha and Ilse do actually have a dialogue. However, they are talking about what flowers to place over the grave, not so much arguing. Thought it was cool x)