For Thin Threads of Light
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer all belongs to Joss Whendon. i simply play with them for fun [though i feel that we, the fans, own the characters more than anyone else, government doesn't agree].
Prologue:
I don't know why I'm still alive. I don't belong to this world, anymore, not when no-one is there to hold me tight in their arms when I feel this way. I'm waiting for someone to come to me, I feel, and take me away to a world, a world far away from all these insane happenings right now. I want peace. I want love. I want to love, and I want to be loved. I want someone to accept me as I am right now, a hollow shell of a person, and still embrace me. Not try and change me.
I know, that this won't happen. But I dream, and I dream often, of my fantasy coming true. Mother used to say I had to get rid of my dreams, and start living in the real world. She said that she's help me through it all. But how can I do that, when Mother has left me all alone here, already?
* * *
I woke up, one morning, and went downstairs to get a cup of tea. There, at the bottom of the steps, the butler and the three maids were standing, shaking and weeping and sobbing. I pushed past them, and entered the dining room, only to see something that made my blood run cold.
Mother. Mother, on the floor. Mother, lying of the floor with her mouth slightly open, her eyes lifeless and glassy. Her face paler than death, blue veins showing everywhere.
I staggered, nearly fainting. Devon held my arms, and made me settle down in an armchair. Vivian gave me a glass of water. My hand was trembling as I gulped it down, looking around the room, anywhere but at the floor where my mother lay. . .
No!
I got up quickly, nearly falling back again with the sudden impact of force on my legs, and threw myself to the ground beside my mother. I grabbed her shoulders, and shook her hard, and harder still, demanding a response as I shrieked at her.
"Mother! Come on, Mamma! You haven't left me here, have you??!! Look, Ma! Vivian and Lilly and Karen are crying!!!! They th-think you've g-g-gone! Ma, come on! Show them you're still here!!!!! M-mamma!!!!!!!"
I remember screaming till someone came and took me back to my room. Giles. I held him, as he stroked my hair, and I cried my heart out.
Later, when I'd stopped crying but was still practically comatose, Tara came. She gestured Giles to leave, and held me in her arms. I remember looking up at her, already gaunt and hollow-eyes, at her face full of love and care. She gave me a weak smile, and that broke the thin wall I had around me. I cried and cried and cried and cried till no tears were left, and I remember Tara crying with me, all the time whispering, "It's okay to cry. It's all right if you cry. It's okay. Okay to cry."
* * *
The funeral was there today. Only close friends, and the few people we call family. Father wasn't there. It made me want to kick him all the way to the Arctic. I mean, his alibi was that Ireland was too far away. And where does he live? In Ireland itself. But I don't think he knows that we know.
Anyway, only friends and family. Giles; Tara; Mother's artist friends; Devon, Vivian, Lilly and Karen. And some others whose names I don't remember. All of my friends? Back in California., where we lived before. But I think that the death of the famous Joyce Carol Summers affected everyone, for public came, too. We held the ceremony during the evening, just before the sunset. The sunset was Mother's favorite time of the day. And thankfully, the priest agreed to that time, even though it practically carried into the night.
We sang her favorite hymn, 'Abide with Me'. Her favorite flowers were put on the grave by everyone. Even people who she'd never talked to knew her favorite bloom, the white rose. I cried during the whole time, and when the service was over, everyone offered me their condolences.
Everyone, but one man. I'd seen him there, because when the Father was saying the prayers, I had to look away from the casket. I was standing right behind it, fanning my mother's beautiful face with her Japanese fan. I looked away, behind me, and there, in the trees, was a tall man dressed in black. He kept in the shadows, but I could make out parts of his face. Sharp cheekbones, and cerulean eyes that were like hot coals, boring into me.
When we returned fro the grave, where Mother was buried, he was still there. Out of the shadows now, since night had fallen. I wanted to go and talk to him, for my heart said I knew him. But Tara took my hand, and led me away.
As I moved, I turned my head towards him once more, but he was gone.