A/N - Please don't reuse the poem, I wrote it for my dad's funeral and adapted it for this story. Also sorry for being away for so long, enjoy
Addison had seen many heart-breaking things in her eighteen years on earth. From discrimination, and segregation to humiliation. Yet nothing could prepare her for the heartbreak of Zevon's funeral. It started with the car meeting them outside the house. As soon as Zoey saw her father's coffin she grabbed Zed's hand, he looked down at her. A sad smile on his face.
"We've got this Kiddo… I won't leave your side now let's give dad the send-off he deserves!" she smiled at him and together they followed the car down the road.
Then something magical happened, as they walked towards the graveyard the town gathered behind. Each of them held a candle and started humming a tune in Zombie tongue. Addison looked around confused, Eliza took pity on her.
"It's the tune of sorrow in our language. It's used to show respect for those that have passed."
"The candles?" Addison asked.
"To carry their souls into the next plight and pray they face a less harsh existence." Addison looked around, it seemed like every Zombie in Seabrook had turned out to pay their respects.
"Is a funeral usually a town affair?" Eliza chuckled.
"Zombie deaths mean something different than humans; we have always been persecuted and as such when one of us dies we all come out to support those that have been left behind." Addison hummed.
As they got to the graveyard Zed turned to Zoey
"I've got to go a grab dad now okay? Do you think you'll be okay with Addison?" Zoey nodded and Zed waved to Addison. The blonde took a step forward and grabbed Zoey's hand as Zed took a step forward and grabbed one side of his father's coffin. Behind him stood four of his dad's friends and next to him was Bonzo. Together, the six pick Zevon up and carry him towards his resting place.
Once inside everyone took their seats as the priest took the stage.
"Today we are here to celebrate the life of Zevon Necrodopolis, a kind and gentle man who lived life to the fullest. Zevon was born to parents Zeke and Zara. Two of our town's favourite Zombies who helped build our town into the thriving community it was. To tell the story of this amazing Zombie we will hear stories from his friends, co-workers and his two darling children that were his pride and joy. First up is his best friend Bozer.
The crowd watched a tall zombie climb to the podium and enthralled the crowd with stories about a clumsy man who managed to keep things afloat. Someone who worked with humans when they exhibited nothing but prejudice. Someone who believed in people and passed that belief onto his children. As time ran on the onlookers heard the tale of a man who was kind, caring and above all an amazing parent.
Then as the funeral came to an end the priest called for Zevon's whole world. Zed grabbed his little sister's hand and walked her to the stage.
"Hi everyone, erm firstly I want to say thank you for coming to say goodbye to my dad. We weren't a big family, but we were full of love. So, to commemorate that I would like to read a poem whilst my sister performs a cheer routine." The onlookers leant forward to watch them, Zed coughed and pulled out a piece of paper
From the moment we are born, we are taught what a hero is,
Someone who can fly and make the world tiz ,
However, my hero isn't someone with powers so magical,
Even if he was quite theatrical,
No, my hero didn't wear a Cape and a mask,
My hero knew his task,
He was there from the moment my sister and I opened our eyes,
He was there to teach me to tie my tie,
My hero is someone who kissed our bumps and scrapes,
Someone who told us off whenever our morals escaped,
He was someone who told us to dream large,
And when times were tough, he took charge.
He protected us my sister and me,
Especially when the world gave us the third degree,
He kept us close in his heart,
Held us tight when we fell apart.
He was our quiet strength,
For us, he would go to any length,
In his embrace, we were safe,
So with this, I make my case,
That even if it sounds mad,
Not all heroes are fantastical; some are just like my dad.
As they finished the crowd stood up and started clapping, Zed smiled and grabbed Zoey's hand, helping her back to her seat.
That night as brother and sister said thea final goodbyes they prayed that tomorrow would be a brighter day.