I still can't believe that someone actually wanted more of my story! All of my love goes out to you, thank you so much!

Jackson Overland's funeral was three days after the accident. I had begged Mother to let me go, although I don't understand why. I guess I felt a sense of responsibility to go, since his death was the entire reason that I got back home from the top of the great mountain. I also wanted to go because there was talk spreading throughout the entire village that he had saved his little sister, sacrificing his life for hers. Anyone who is that selfless deserves to be honored and respected by all.

As I stared at myself in the mirror, I felt like I was looking at a stranger. My short, uncontrollably curly hair had been wrapped up into a tight bun, requiring such a vast number of pins that the metal stuck painfully into my head. In order to cover up my attention-grabbing hair, I had taken one of Grandmother's black hats from the old trunk at the foot of my parents' bed. The hat was old-fashioned, designed to keep the sun out of the wearer's eyes while still allowing them to look like a proper lady. It had a long black veil running down the back, which I had wrapped around my shoulders as a sort of lace shawl. Tying the black silk ribbon below my strong jawline, I observed my dress. It was long, simple, and black. I remembered my mother wearing it to my grandfather's funeral, nearly six years ago. The woven fabric made me feel as if I would catch it on thin air and snag the delicate garment. The long sleeves hung lower on my wrists than they were meant to, since my stature was so much smaller than my mother's. The ends of the sleeves came to a point, with an inch-thick lace trim around it. The bottom of the dress had been tucked underneath itself and pinned so that I didn't trip on the excess six inches that would have dragged on the ground. Bending over to tie the laces of my thick black boots, I mentally prepared myself to attend the second funeral in my lifetime.

Closing my door behind me, I felt a cold wind threaten to send me toppling down the street. Wrapping my makeshift shawl around myself even tighter, I braved the cold and made the short walk to the church. Before I could go inside, though, I heard soft sobs coming from the side of the large stone building. I knew I should have gone inside, but my curiosity won over my common sense, as it often did. Peeking around the corner, I saw a small form with a mess of straight dark hair in a black dress. I could only assume that this person knew Jackson Overland and didn't want their grief to be seen by anyone else. I felt a sharp pang in my heart for this child, of whom could not be older than ten. Although I knew that they would rather be left alone, I decided to at least attempt to comfort the child.

Walking over, I placed a nervous hand on the little girl's shoulder. Surprised, she whirled around to face me with big, watery brown eyes. Something flashed in her eyes before she turned back around. I heard the bell ring, signaling the beginning of the funeral. The girl began crying even harder, her shoulders shaking violently. For some reason, I felt as though I needed to comfort her, as if it was my duty.

"I'm sorry about Jackson," I started nervously. "How did you know him?"

"I'm-" the girl sniffled, "I'm his sister." I gasped, feeling as if I hadn't been sincere enough when asking about him. I couldn't keep the sad look out of my eyes, but once the girl saw it, she seemed to get angry.

"Don't tell me that you're sorry because you're not, and don't say that you know how I feel because you don't. And don't tell me it's not my fault, because it is!" She yelled, breaking down even more.

"How is it your fault-"

"Emma."

"Emma," I repeated. "How do you think it's your fault?"

"I was the one that was stupid enough not to get off the ice! I went skating to the middle of the lake when Jack told me not to! I thought he was just playing a trick like he always does! Did!" Emma wiped at her eyes angrily. "And even once the ice started breaking, I still thought he was playing a trick on me, he just wanted me to play hopscotch like we always did. Then, he grabbed a stick and he, he-" she broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. I couldn't stop myself from grabbing her small, shaking form and enveloping her in a tight hug.

"Emma, Emma," I said, trying to calm her, "none of that was your fault. You didn't know that the lake wasn't frozen over all the way. He protected you like any good brother would do." I started smoothing her hair as she buried her face into my shoulder. I couldn't help but think, in that moment, how many times my mother had held me like I was holding Emma right now, calming me after I did something bad or I woke up screaming from a nightmare in which I lost Grandfather all over again. I held Emma closer to me, willing her to let it all out. "Maybe he played tricks on you because that was his way of showing love? Maybe he wanted you to play hopscotch so that you wouldn't be so scared? Perhaps he sacrificed himself for you because he loved you so much that he didn't know what he'd do without you?" Emma gasped, as if this were the first time she had heard any of these things.

"Do you really think so?" Her big brown eyes gazed up at me as if all of her hope was riding on the next word I said.

"Yes."

Minutes later, Emma and I had snuck into the church in the middle of the ceremony. She went running up to the front row to sit with her grieving parents while I, feeling out of place, sat in the back pew. Interestingly, with the obvious absence of a body, the family had used the next best thing, Jackson's skates. The ones he was wearing when he and Emma went skating. They were sitting on a stool with a simple baby's blanket used as a sort of tablecloth. I couldn't help but guess that it was Jack's as well. I mouthed the words of the final blessing along with the Reverend, remembering them perfectly from Grandfather's funeral.

"May the Lord bless you and keep you. May the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you. May the Lord look upon you in favor and grant you peace."

I felt a tear slip from my eye. I would forever strive to be as caring, as brave, and as selfless as this boy. At eighteen years old, he wasn't yet a man but in his final moments he was braver than any warrior ever was, or ever would be. I closed my eyes.

"Amen."

Read and review, if you want! I'll try to type up some chapters so that I won't have to come up with them on the fly, like this one. (I apologize if it's not as good as the first chapter, I wrote this in about two hours...) Hopefully I'll have a new chapter up sometime tomorrow or Monday, but I make no promises.
Thanks so much for reading!