Part Eight

Malachi tried to keep my routine as normal as he could. That meant, training at the den, every day. I wallowed in self-pity, and the prospect of training didn’t lighten my mood.

“You have to focus,” he said as his bare fist landed on my nose, and a trickle of blood appeared.

“I’m trying to,” I replied, and brought my hands up to protect my face. His punch caught me in the ribs, and I grunted, and felt it break. Malachi had no mercy on me. Another punch came for me and I managed to block it, but missed the punch that caught me on the side of my head.

Malachi stopped and looked at me. “It’s no use trying to train you when you fight like a three-year-old girl.” He grinned at me and I returned his grin. He loved his insults especially if they added to my humiliation.

We got into Malachi’s Navigator and drove home to shower. Karani just gave us a look as she saw the blood from my nose and told Malachi to take it easy on me. Tomorrow would be a rough day for me.

It was the day of Sarah’s funeral, and James hadn’t left my side since she died. I wasn’t sure what he was so afraid of, but I had been withdrawn and quiet. I blamed myself for her death. It was literally my fault that she was dead. I hadn’t been around to see her parents; I wasn’t even sure if they knew we had broken up, or that she’d been pregnant.

What would have been the point anyway? I couldn’t face her parents with a lie, and I certainly couldn’t tell them the truth either. I had been to her house a few times and heard her mother sobbing in her untouched room. She’d left them without a suicide note, and without an explanation.

The sky was clear and cloudless, a beautiful day, and I cursed the sunshine and the light breeze. At the church, her parents sat in the front pew with a few of Sarah’s close friends beside them. I walked with Malachi and Karani, and we found a seat in the back. A few of her friends whispered when they saw me, but Karani gave them one look and they quieted down.

People took turns to say nice things about her, but I didn’t hear any of it. I kept thinking back to that night on the stairs. If only I had reacted sooner, if only I hadn’t told her to get rid of the baby … she would still be alive.

Her parents stood on the outside of St. Peter’s Episcopal Church as people gave their condolences and I walked up to them. “I’m very sorry–” Her mother’s hand connected with my cheek as she slapped me hard across my face and walked away.

I stood there with my cheek burning for a few seconds while people watched. I shook my head sadly; this would only add more fuel to the already wild rumors going around. I could see the pitiful looks, and the confusion of her mother’s reaction to me.

Everybody stood around the grave, her casket covered by a pall, listening to the priest reading from the bible. Her mother was sitting on a chair, sobbing. I switched the emotional pain off; it wasn’t something that I could have handled right then, even though I’d wanted to feel it.

The mood was somber as it ought to be. Sarah had been loved by many and people couldn’t understand why she, of all people, would kill herself. Sarah had been pure sunshine, a ray of light in an otherwise dark world.

“Heavenly Father, we thank you this day for your precious, eternal, and unchanging word. We thank you that you are, to us, the Rock of Ages and the great I am. In the midst of our natural sorrow, we thank you for your supernatural comfort and grace.

In the face of death, we thank you for your gift of eternal life.

In the face of separation, we thank you for the eternal reunion we so eagerly anticipate.

We thank you for Sarah’s life here on this earth, and we recognize that the body that lies before us is not Sarah, but rather the vessel in which she lived. We acknowledge that Sarah is rejoicing, even now, in your very presence, enjoying the blessings of Heaven.

Father, we commit her body to the earth, from which our bodies were originally created, and we rejoice in the fact that her spirit is even now with you, the Father of spirits.

We anticipate the day when spirit and body shall be united again at the coming of the Lord, and we find great comfort in knowing that we shall forever be together with the Lord.

We thank you Father, that in the days, weeks, and months to come, these realities and the abiding presence of your Spirit will especially strengthen, sustain, and comfort Sarah’s friends and family.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

I felt utterly overwhelmed and I walked away from her grave. The parking lot of the Chamber of Commerce shielded the cemetery from the highway and I stuck my hands in my pockets. I turned as the wind shifted and I saw a strange car driving past the building and towards the town.

“Kiran.” Karani’s voice carried over the distance and I turned to look at my mother.

I took a deep breath and looked at the sorrow in her eyes. She knew me so well, especially my ever-present struggle with emotions. Death stood at the far end of the parking lot and it felt like he was looking into my soul.

I wanted to curse him for taking her. She’d been innocent and I might as well have handed her that blade to end her life. Karani was in front of me now and I could see Malachi looking in the direction of where Death stood, but I knew he couldn’t see him.

Nobody could see him, except for me. Death raised his two fingers in a salute and my whole body stiffened as he grinned at me and disappeared. The pressure inside my soul eased and my mother’s scent calmed me.

“Let’s go home,” she said softly and took my hand.

“I’m so sorry, Mom.”

Tears spilled from her eyes as she wrapped her arms around me. “I know, Kiran, I know. It wasn’t your fault. I know you think it is, but it’s not. It’ll get better, I promise.”

The thing with death and time is that it’s a never ending cycle of guilt and remorse. I could forgive myself and switch it all off or I could face my emotions and suffer through them as I blamed myself for Sarah’s death, our baby’s death and the void her death left in so many lives.