The Funeral Style

Chapter Fourteen

thanks for sticking with this for so long 

Chapter Fourteen

Exhausted. I felt drained from any sort of energy and human being my size could hold.

I stood there, against the wall, ready to 'serve' any guest that was in need of assistance, and God, it was torture. I hadn't seen Mr. Parity all day. Once he left me in the kitchen with the girl who warned me over and over to escape, I hadn't seen his stupid face again.

I was told I wasn't allowed to talk during a funeral service, so, I stood there, waiting for the guests to actually arrive. That's right, I'm exhausted already, and the funeral attendances haven't even walked through the door yet.

I need to work out.

The girl who I have been working with all day, came to stand by my side. We had finished cooking nearly an hour ago, and instead of helping her set up the table, she begged me to stand by the wall since she was running late and somebody had to be standing here at all times.

I wanted to say something, and almost did, but she new exactly what I was going to do, and shook her head.

Talking is forbidden.

A large group of people eventually entered the building. I was shocked at how good these people looked. Not physically, but mentally.  By the looks on their faces, the atmosphere they created, I felt as if they didn't care at all that they were at a funeral.

Not only that, but they looked rich beyond belief.

I wasn't a judgmental person, but I already assumed exactly what kind of people these are.

At last, Mr. Parity entered the room. Watching the way he walked, spoke, and even his posture, was deja vu, he seemed to act the very same way from when we were here at Amanda's funeral.

This man seemed to have no uniqueness, and yet, he was odd all over, just stuck on repeat.

"Welcome everyone!" He spread his arms out, and beckoned to around the room, "Welcome to Parity Cemetery."

I rolled my eyes at how proud he sounded. This place was no reason to be proud. It's nothing but a death parade smeared in gold dust and expensive flowers.

"My name is Mr. Parity." He bowed politely, "I'll be your host this evening."

"How long will the burial be?" A woman who looked to be in her late thirties, asked, with her hands on her hips, "It's important that I get back in less than three hours, are we clear?"

Mr. Parity grinned, and slowly nodded his head, "Precisely." 

He lead them out to the garden, leaving me and the girl, I still don't know's name, alone to stand.

"How long must we stand here?" I asked her. 

Her eyes widened at the fact that I actually spoke, but she didn't say anything about it. After a long pause, she sighed quietly, "These are wealthy people." She stated, "I would say two hours."

"Two hours?" I glanced at her, "Amanda's burial wasn't even that long."

"Mr. Parity likes to make the impatient people wait even longer. It's his own way of punishment for them being so careless of a family member."

I scoffed at how childish that was of him to do, but then again, it was quite genius. I find it humorous that he has the capability to do that. 

I watched, as out the windows, dark clouds began to stir in the sky. I felt annoyed over the fact that I'd most likely have to walk home in the cold rain.