AURORA

XXIII

JANUARY 2020

THE MODERN WORLD

AZEALA LAQUI

-

I had actually tried to tone my style down to blend in. I didn't want to attract attention right now. My ankle boots thudded across the pavement and people turned to look, but I didn't even acknowledge them.

Instead it seemed that my focus was on the silent couple in the corner focusing on their business, deeply in love. And that mother with her three year old as they laughed. And the other man, who talking on the phone, flirting so unabashedly.

I remained hollow. The funeral was a quiet gathering and one of the first I had attended in a long time. No one paid any heed to me as I sat in the back row.

Two caskets sat in the front, decorated with while lilies and red roses. I could do nothing but stare at the carved outlines of black wood, as I withered in my guilt.

I had done something good but at what cost, I had taken the life of a child to do so. She did deserve to die a proper death, not the quick one I had given her. A man walked to the front, tears in his eyes. He was dressed immaculately, but the pain couldn't be hidden.

"My wife," he whispered, "Was the most beautiful and kindest women ever known." His voice was cloaked in sadness and he took a deep breath.

"She had a life of her own and could light up the world, she had dreams left to live but that was taken away from her. I am angry right nor. Rightfully and completely angry. But I can hear her voice in my ear, telling me to calm down. Telling me to get justice for her the right way. Telling me not to resort to violence. And for her I will do just that."

I felt the lump in my throat grow. I was a bad person; I didn't kill the mother, but I felt the pain and I made my mind to grind Madeline for it later. The man turned and walked slightly to the side, to the smaller grave.

"That is my daughter," he said , "But she is not my daughter, at least not biologically. But to me that does not matter, when I promised to take care of her mother. I promised to take care of her, and she meant the world to me too."

"Maybe even more than her mother," he said a moment later, laughing slightly as he looked at the coffin.

"She was small, and she had even more of the world left to live, but what happens, happens and God knows best."

I got up; I couldn't realise why I was here. I had no business attending the funeral. A few people looked to me as I left but no one gave me any drama. I walked away.

In my own world, I sat on the bench of the park, string out to the greenery in front of me. A man sat beside me and I let him, not even look up as I looked on sullen.

"Fancy meeting you here," the man said. I didn't respond. I probably didn't even know who he was.

"Princess," he said. My head jerked upwards and I looked to him. He was wearing a crooked smile.

"What are you doing here," I accused him, glaring.

"I attended a funeral and I saw this beautiful young woman sitting here in her own world," he said, "I couldn't bear to watch your misery."

"How nice of you, why don't you go bother someone else."

"Why would I do that when it would be so much more fun to bother you."

"How smooth," I scoffed.

"Very."

And I didn't respond, instead allowing the silence build up between us. I wasn't an awkward silence, both of us were looking for nothing to fill it with. We were just in our own worlds.

"Come," he said, "Come, join me for a coffee."

"No," I responded.

"Aww, come on."

"I do not know you, I do not want to know you and I most certainly do not trust you, so leave," I said glaring at him.

"How you wound me princess," he said, "But I will not leave till you come with me for a coffee." I didn't respond, instead choosing to look away from him a scowl on my face.

"Why are you here, anyway," he asked me.

"I attended the funeral of the girl I killed." There was a short pause and he stared at me then laughed.

"I didn't know you were also fascinated by dark humour, I guess we only learn facts about each other when we talk."

The glare I sent him was pure witchery, it came from deepest part of my heart and all my loathing was in it.

"Oooh, calm down, princess," he said quietly, "I'm sorry if I upset you." The change in his tone made me look at him again. I looked at him for a long moment before standing upto leave. I needed a glass of wine.

He stood up too and grabbed my arm to stop me moving.

"Look," he said softly, "You don't look too good right now."

"What are you trying to tell me," I snapped.

"I'm saying," he said softly, "I don't feel that good right now too, what do we lose if we just have some fun, forget about the bad."

I looked at him weighing my options, staring at his hand on my arm. He removed his hand and held it front of my face, in an open gesture. I nodded.

"Okay," I said and slipped my hand into his fully not believing I was bold enough or dumb enough to do so.

OOMPA LOOMPA