"A sorrowful sight I saw: dark night coming down prematurely, and sky and hills mingled in one bitter swirl of wind and suffocating snow." Chapter Two, Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte.
Lilith stood impassively in the graveyard, hands and gentle touches sought to comfort her but did not wake her from this nightmare. The man she called father stood, quite a distance away, looking at her with contempt; still she was unaffected. She showed no signs of life, they said she felt nothing just like she did nothing but that was not true. She was dying inside, crying in her shell, she was so numb and so cold. She was just as dead as her mother was.
After a while people began to leave and yet she made no move to leave. She barely heard the angry words her stepfather said, she couldn't see past the grave that was infront of her. Her stepfather blamed her for her mother's death and she agreed with him, it was her fault her mother had died. If she had just have been quicker getting home her mother might not have been dead now. It was all her fault.
Lilith, now left alone by the graveside, dropped to her knees and cried out in pain, grief and frustration. Loud sobs wracked her body as she ripped the flowers adorning her mother's freshly covered grave and clawed at the soil as if trying to get closer to her mother's body. She didn't understand why and it was tearing her apart, body and soul. Lilith pounded her fists into the soil angrily, laying on the soil she cried in despair.
"Lilith?" A man's voice but she didn't want to hear him, she didn't want to hear anything, she just wanted to die. A wrinkled hand was placed on her shoulder and another on her waist easing her up off the ground. She was covered in dirt but she didn't care, she didn't care for anything anymore.
The man tutted at the state she had gotten into, dirt and mud all over her black sombre clothes. "Let's get this cleaned up, hmm? Scourgify," the man said pointing a stick at her clothes, her clothes became instantly clean and yet she still said nothing. The man put his hand under her chin and lifted her head up, she looked at the old white haired and bearded man with little interest. "You look like your mother, which I suppose is a good thing no one will compare you to your father. Come now, I believe it's time we went home don't you?"
Lilith just turned and stared back at the grave, flowers ripped and shredded, dirt scratched and clawed. Lilith felt so alone, alone and tired. Tired of everything. She didn't want to go home, she still saw her mother's limp body crucified on the wall and her dreams; they were worse than ever. Lilith bent down and took one of the flowers that was lying there, a snowdrop, her mother's favourite. Lilith stood up and walked with the man who took this as a sign to continue talking.
"We'll pay for your schooling obviously, you needn't worry about that and you'll have extra money for yourself. Treat it as a scholarship or an apprenticeship, for all your hard work over these years and hopefully your continued hard work." The man paused to open the latch on the gate of the Cemetery, he nodded at a very tall man who held open the door to a car. "You'll have to be sorted of course and take remedial lessons to catch up but I think you'll make friends within your own year soon enough. We've already got your stepfather's consent Lilith, what about yours?"
Lilith just looked back at the graveyard sighing softly wiping tears from her eyes, Lilith nodded her head and got into the car. Door shutting she stared out of the window, the tall man said she would like the school and told her it would be a big adventure. The white haired man watched her with some concern as if expecting her to sprout fangs or two heads or something. Lilith watched the world go by, whilst the car drove on to it's destination, and slowly closed her eyes.
A woman's soft touch telling her that it would be alright and that the pain would stop soon.
Lilith dreamt.
