Fiery Trap

Prologue

                                                                          Jay's Funeral

Is the rain a sign? Is it God crying about where Jay's soul went? A thin-looking boy, aged thirteen thought. His eyes gazed at the falling drops of water that puck, puck, pucked on his large, sable umbrella. Is my brother going to hell for what he did? He wondered somberly, this time looking away from the drizzling rain. His grey eyes were now on the pastor, reading his leather-bound Bible. He was the reason this thought just came to him. Each time he quoted scriptures, the rain became heavier and the leaden clouds rumbled. He was positive this was God weeping for his brother's soul.

His narrow eyes stared at the casket furiously, but his mother next to him didn't notice. She cried just like the rain, as no one could comfort her. Her so-called good friends didn't stay around when they saw all over the news that her son was the other person that murdered the Hausefalles' oldest child. The Hausefalles were well known in town and were very respected. The thought of going to the funeral of a murderer might as well mean you were an outcast in town. The funeral attendees consisted of out-of-towners, specifically folks who remembered the good side of Jay (the middle-school Jay that excelled in his classes, but got too caught up in the wrong group and didn't pay much attention to schoolwork or his single mother's nagging advice. Also, the boy that once loved to ride his bike around the neighborhood, waving his candy-sticky hand at his elderly neighbors every time he saw them outside). These were the people that showed up for the funeral, and they totaled only ten.

Everyone was shielded from the pouring rain with a black umbrella except for a large, bald man at the very end of the row. This stranger clearly needed a larger umbrella than he currently had, but didn't seem to mind the rain soaking through his expensive, dark suit. He appeared somewhat irritated by the event taking place. Kyle couldn't blame him; he wished he and his brother weren't here either.

"Kyle," a voice hissed at him. His thoughts puffed away as he focused on the person calling him. His friend, Caldwell, stared at him with his sad eyes. Kyle smiled faintly to ease his pain. Caldwell was his best and only friend. He hung around with Kyle and Jay, as he didn't have any siblings. In fact, Kyle considered Caldwell his brother. He was also as skinny and awkward as Kyle. Glancing at Caldwell, Kyle realized that Caldwell's heartfelt mourning over Jay's death truly made him a family member in Kyle's mind. Caldwell lightly patted Kyle's back and he replied with an assuring nod. He wanted him to know he felt all right. Kyle's eyes now went to the water-splattered casket.

The rain still poured. Kyle's mother still wept. Pastor still read the scripture. The only difference was the casket now descended to rest six feet under. It was painful for Kyle to watch. This is actually it. This is actually happening. My brother is in some big black box and he's never coming back. He will never ring the doorbell. He isn't coming back home. This isn't some type of prank that Jay is pulling on me and Mom. And with that thought, his eyes streamed with silent tears. But another thought followed, the thought of who was responsible. The very thought of the person brought fury mixed with pain within him.

He hated those that were involved with his brother's death. He thought it was unfair. Even though his brother wasn't in the right frame of mind, it didn't mean he deserved to die. Jail, yes, but not death. Kyle narrowed his eyes at the sky and the image of a female with dark brown hair and thick-rimmed glasses appeared in his thoughts. He tightened his right fist in anger. He hated her for what she did.

He now noticed workers shoving muddy dirt onto the casket. Kyle couldn't take this anymore as his eyes swelled up. His heart burst out of his chest in grief. He felt trapped, so he ran away, leaving the umbrella behind that shielded him from the rain. His mother, too consumed by her own pain, didn't care to call out or follow him.