Fighting the Stars - A Jack Harries Fanficton

Chapter 27

An early winter seemed to be dawning upon the Bristol campus. Trees had long been completely bare, their leaves exposing them naked to the cold. Maybe that’s why they are called leaves, because they leave their branches for a steady decent to the ground.

I suppose there are two ways to interpret this; I could either be the leaves that people walk on once the earth turns to autumn, or I could be the leaves that grow back, luscious and green. I always have fancied the springtime. 

It was late October and we’d already seen flakes of snow, which isn’t too surprising for England. It wasn’t a pleasant snow, though. It was the kind that melted straight away, leaving puddles of slush and mud. The Bristol campus was always so beautiful when the leaves began to change. I guess I just expected it to stay beautiful forever.

James’s funeral had been last week. The last funeral I had been to before was that of my still-born sister. And it wasn’t much of a funeral to be honest, just putting an unfortunate soul into the ground. That’s why I’m an only child. Not because my parents didn’t want to reproduce another offspring like me, but because after a miscarriage the thought of ending another life was too painful of a chance. 

Sometimes I wonder what life would be like had my sister’s birth gone properly. Maybe my father would never have hit me. Maybe he never would have gotten sick in the first place. She would have been far more beautiful than me, that I know for sure. I’m also sure that my parents would have arranged for her to marry Terrance, just as my fate had been sealed with James. But he would have made her incredibly happy. Happier than I ever could have been with James.

I don’t think about her much anymore, nor do I talk about her. It hurts too much so I don’t want to talk about it.

I felt out of place at James’s funeral. I didn’t belong there, even though I understood that my presence was mandatory. People’s eyes focused on Jack and I more so than the Pastor, you know, the one freeing James’s haunted soul from this earth. It was uncomfortable. I thought that by going to the funeral I would gain some sense of closure, instead I was judged by eyes who knew nothing but what they read in news articles. And that made me surprisingly angry.

They did play beautiful music, though. This pleased me greatly. Although, my mind couldn’t help but hope that they play meaningful music at my funeral as well. 

There were nearly four-hundred people in attendance that day. But the majority of them never even knew James. Not the James that I knew anyways. They only bothered to show up for two reasons; 1) To support the family, and 2) See the ever so innocent and tormented Sophie Caliway from all the news stories. It’s a shame that people are so ignorant these days.

I did cry at James Hadsbury’s funeral. I cried for the James I fell in love with, the one that stole my heart. As much as I miss him and as much as I don’t, the fact that he’s really gone has begun to settle within me. I just never thought it would settle this deep.

I held onto Jack as they planted James’s body into the ground. His mother laid the gold-encrusted family pin on his casket. This I didn’t quite understand. Why would you bury a family heirloom with someone who couldn’t carry it on? Wouldn’t you want it to be passed down, to be a symbol that no matter what tragedy engulfs us, family stays together?

Then again, James always got the best of things. That’s why he grew tired of me. Because I wasn’t the best of things.

Ever since the funeral I’ve acquired the habit of reading obituaries in the daily paper. I’m not sure why. I guess I just like the idea that I’m not the only one mourning. 

There is one thing I’ve learned from reading about the deceased. It’s that every man’s life ends the same way. It’s only details of how he lived and how he died that distinguish him from another.