hurtful wrote:
Riley felt a wave of guilt wash over her as she parked her car outside the church. This isn’t your funeral to attend, the words echoed in her head and made her stomach turn. Sure it was, she was an investigator another voice countered. She should investigate. Usually Riley was good at turning her emotions off when it came to her work. Separating work and personal life was a necessity in her field.
The gloomy landscape was awfully fitting for a funeral. If Riley hadn’t known better, she’d thought that the Richmonds had paid someone to set the tragic scene. Everyone was there it seemed. Some to grieve, others to rejoice in the death of an enemy. Holden Richmond Sr was not a good man. There was plenty of people who benefitted from his passing.
She cursed herself for not bringing an umbrella, and decided to quickly head inside for some cover. The Richmonds were standing by the entrance, greeting all guests with somber expressions and mournful mumbles. She saw no point in approaching them at this time, concerned it might cause a scene. After all, everyone knew why she was there.
”Rick where are you?” She whispered into the phone as she headed towards what she assumed to be the bathrooms. With no answer from her partner, she went to shove her phone down her pocket only to realize she was wearing a dress. Riley needed to blend in and not look like a cop for once which proved to be a much more difficult task than she had anticipated. The phone found its place in her bra, as she began splashing cold water on her cheeks. Riley was in desperate need of refreshing, knowing what was to come. Knowing who she’d probably meet.
She had seen Miles now and then, he worked at the only decent bar in town and she was known for enjoying her glass of whiskey ever so often. They never talked, and made a conscious effort not to spend any time alone. It hurt her sometimes, seeing him. Like salting an old wound when their gazes would occasionally meet. She would look away, finish her glass. What they had was nothing but ancient history, then again, deep down, she felt as though it would never really be over. A naive part of her still believed that there was more to Miles than the shitty apathetic front he was putting on.
—
Holden carefully knocked on his mothers door that drizzly Tuesday morning. Lauren Richmond took great pride in her appearance, so seeing her like that, a disheveled little girl lying on the foot of the bed, weeping with a picture frame resting on her chest, it broke his heart a little. Holdens love towards his mother was not easily described. Sure, he made sure to show his affection by making the occasional call or even visiting on Christmas. But spending more time than necessary with the woman that birthed him saddened Holden, he felt pity towards her. Lauren only cared for one thing, and it wasn’t her son.”I still cannot believe it!”, She cried out in the car. Holden looked over at her from the drivers seat and nodded.
”It’s shocking, yes.” He agreed.
”I mean, what are people going to think? I cannot stand this, oh, Holden, turn the car around!”, She pleaded, but to no avail.
Holden clenched his jaw and kept on driving. Her dramatic outbursts weren’t unfamiliar, and he was convinced the act would come to a screeching halt as soon as she saw her dear friends. He could already picture it, her embodying the role of the grieving widow perfectly, each tear perfectly framing her face as they ran down her painted cheeks.
When they entered the church, his mother instantly walked off with the pastor to go over the program. As Holden Sr Richmonds only son, it was his duty to pay tribute by making a eulogy. His mother had naturally already written one for him to recite, making sure it was picture perfect. Everything had to be picture perfect.
As people started arriving, Holden grew into his role of the grieving son. It was as if all the pain was brought to the surface as each relative, colleague or friend of his father’s greeted him with that look. That look of pure pity. He didn’t know if the sadness was rooted in true grief or humiliation. He felt so small as everyone grabbed him by the shoulder or kissed his tear stained face.
—
The death of Holden Richmond Sr had come as a surprise to Celia Walker. She remembered receiving the call a mere week ago, her mother’s upset tone as she uttered the word. Murdered. She figured, if Richmond ever should die, it would not be an accident. The man was certainly rich enough to forego death of natural causes.
”I just feel like shit, I should be there.”, Celia’s husband said for the fourth time in two minutes. She sighed. Having her spouse by her side would be comforting, but they couldn’t really afford such a luxury.
”No, it’s okay. Mom, dad and Miles are all here and you need to stay with the kids. They shouldn’t have to miss school to go to a funeral”, she replied. ”It’s fine, it really is. ” Celia assured before hanging up the phone.
She was staying in her old room. It hadn’t really changed since she went off to college. Same posters on the wall, even the notebooks on her desk hadn’t moved. As if nothing had changed since then. Luckily, it had. She opened the notebook and looked over the pages. Written by such a naive little soul. She didn’t even notice that she was crying until a single tear drop hit the smudgy paper. She quickly closed the book and shoved it under the mattress.
”Celia, darling, it’s time.”, Her mother said, peeking through the door.
Private
Private
0
0
0
0
To join the forums you need to be logged in.
22
