The Curse (H. Academy Series #1)
Chapter 11: The Funeral

My mind drifted between the fifteen caskets, lowered in the ground at the same time, and the overall shortness of life we live. I wanted to pay my respects to the dead, but fear for the living was stronger. A foreboding sense of despair loomed over us, combined with the thick, grey clouds. The air smelt of ozone. I clutched my black, plaid coat tighter and tried not to think ill thoughts of people surrounding me.

To be precise, the lack of them.

Of three hundred students in the school, less than fifty came to the funeral. Parents of the students that died were present, at least. And the looks on their faces were indescribable. Such tremendous pain was hard to put into words. Mixture of disbelief and agony decorated their pale expressions, making me look away. Tears stung in my eyes as I watched the smiling faces on the pictures exposed in front of the caskets. So many hopes and dreams crushed in a second, disappearing forever. And why? Mere coincidence.

Perhaps it would be easier if there was someone to blame. But they were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, too close to the windows, too slow to run away.

The choir sang the song, solemn and melodious, and Amma grabbed my hand, burying her face in my coat. Quiet cries escaped from her lips and I used all my strength to not fall apart there and then.

It could’ve been us. Amma, Morta, me. Like this made it any less terrifying and easier to handle. Just because it wasn’t people I knew, didn’t mean it wasn’t an immense tragedy.

At least all the teachers were present, including my father. I avoided his eye contact at all costs, which left me no choice but to focus on the dead lowered to the ground.

“We return in great despair what has been given from the ground, back to the ground.” The priestess said, her white robes swaying in the light wind. I blinked my tears away, feeling the lump in my throat tighten further.

Emotions swirled through me. From anger towards my father and anger towards all the students that didn’t show up, to the plain sorrow that clawed at my heart, reminding me of our own mortality. And for what? My mind tugged with the same old question. Why?

The meaninglessness of it all was turning hard to handle and I desperately wanted to run away, forget any of this even happened. But there was no way to escape the reality. Something attacked our school and killed our classmates, without a shred of dignity or mercy.

Amma sniffled into my coat, offering no comfort, whatsoever, so I searched for it elsewhere. Morta was on my right, but her face gave away no emotion, just a gulp here and there. Timidly, I looked over to the teachers, finding Thar staring at me.

Emotions crashed into me; pain, sorrow, dread, anger. They all hit at once, leaving me gasping for air through the lump in my throat. Thar’s entire body twitched and I saw Professor Lorenia grab him by his forearm, stopping him in tracks. He wanted to come to me, I realised and swallowed everything that bubbled up in me.

Finally, tears won the battle and streamed down my face, ruining my foundation and my mascara. I felt the wave of magic reach me, soft and gentle like the touch of a warm, summer day. Thar was sending the magic my way. I breathed in the comfort and let it overwhelm me, hoping it would help keep myself together.

With the soft magic enveloping me, I went through the funeral just like the rest of us. And once the bodies were finally buried and the priestess finished her woeful prayer, I begged for a moment to leave.

Students and teachers began talking to each other, but no face in the crowd held any joyfulness. Deep pain was scattered all over the backyard.

“No one came.” I said once I knew no one but Morta and Amma could hear me. Tears stung again, but I ignored them. “No one came to the funeral.”

“When beggars die, there are no comets seen.” Morta’s voice was emotionless, but her eyes told a different story underneath the eyeliner. Weights on her soul might be even heavier.

“I have to get outta here.” I said quickly, feeling the world close in on me. I didn’t understand this tremendous pain, I didn’t want it. Just two months ago, I was certain I would spent my youth at the normal, human college, with people whose biggest problems were whether a boy looked at them. Now, I was here. My entire world turned upside down, my heart shattered and my gut scared.

“Where are you going?” Amma’s tear-stained face turned glum immediately.

“Anywhere.” I said hastily, feeling my body turn away from the people. “I can’t be here.”

Without another word, I walked over to the western building quickly, storming through the grass, not bothering to walk down stony paths. My legs were faster than my mind, my need to run took control over me. It led me to the backdoor of the western building.

I was looking forward to collapsing on the stony steps when I saw Leon. His face was completely pale, decorated by dark circles and dread. Like the face of a person who just witnessed death flash before his eyes. His fingers shook as he took a drag of his cigarette. He eyed me glumly, but I didn’t care. I sat on the steps.

“Sorry.” I murmured.

“Another runaway.” He exhaled thick smoke.

“I hate funerals.” I admitted. “Or facing tragedy.”

“Join the club. We ignore problems and drink away our sorrows.” He offered a bottle of something that somehow appeared in his hand. There was no better moment than this one to go on a downward spiral. I took a sip and recognised it, the witch’s brew.

“No one fucking came.” I said, still unable to believe.

“You think you’re the only one unable to face tragedy?” Leon smirked. “We’re protecting ourselves from the unbearable realisation. We come with an expiration date.”

“Yeah, but unlike spoilt milk, we can never know for certain when we’re going to expire.” I took another sip, letting the liquor burn that awful lump still in my throat.

“You might die tomorrow.” Leon offered a cigarette and I took it. I needed to lose myself in the smoke, I needed all my emotions faded and hazed.

“Isn’t it amazing, what strength humans possess, to build empires and fight wars, knowing none of it is permanent, not even themselves?” I inhaled the smoke, feeling it fill up my lungs, combined with the chilly air.

“Such deeds in the name of nothingness.” Leon stole the bottle from me and gulped down the content. The witch’s brew was one strong beverage and I felt the alcoholic tingle spread through me.

“It’s stupid. We’re all stupid for thinking that anything we do has any meaning. Today, I witnessed fifteen young people lowered into the ground, just because. No reasons, no explanations. They weren’t even chosen by the higher entity.” I exhaled the gush of smoke I was holding.

“Some would say they were chosen by the Goddess.” Leon snickered.

“Do you really think there are still gods that care about humans?” I smirked back. “We’re a... failed experiment. They wanted a miracle, but they created chaos. Whatever gods there are, I’m sure they already moved on to creating better civilisations.” I sounded nihilistic, but my soul was strained with the pain.

“We may be destructive, but we’re charming. I mean, look at us. Writing poems, coming up with philosophies, inventing, like there’s meaning behind everything. Like we stand a chance against something as massive and all-powerful as time itself.” Leon got up and stood in front of me. With his cigarette near his lips and a glum smirk on his lips, his hair rustled and the spark in his icy eyes destructive, he looked like the epitome of chaos.

And it would be so easy to let go.

“The universe is going to explode.” I said, feeling the numbness caused by alcohol spread through me. Or maybe getting used to tragedy did that. “And we think there’s any significance in any of us.”

Talking about it was dangerous in more ways than one. Especially when we had to stay sober and alert at all times. But letting go sounded easy, it sounded comforting. And Leon was offering something I hadn’t known I craved. Rawness. Honesty. In its ugliest form. Because honesty was never anything pretty.

“Hmm, we’re meaningless particles floating around, true. But permanence is not the only state we should base anything on. When you hear a joke, you don’t expect to laugh forever.” Leon smiled, the first genuine smile I saw on his face today.

“Yes, but when you love, you expect you’ll love forever.” I countered and he bowed his head slightly.

“We’re a romantic species.” A chuckle escaped, half-hidden by strands of his dark hair. “Great loves, poetic justices and tales of revenge. It’s what we expect to happen with this ‘demonic entity,’ too. Waiting for a brave warrior that’s going to cut it in half, erasing it from existence.”

“Do we even stand a chance against a demon?” I asked.

“Banishing it, yes. Destroying it forever, no.” Leon sat next to me again, lighting another cigarette. What I appreciated most about his company in the present moment was that he didn’t meddle.

“Fighting a losing battle, I see.”

“Haven’t we just concluded that every battle is a losing battle?” Leon turned to me and our proximity turned apparent.

If only letting go was an option.

“Is that how you feel about everything?” I noticed my body turning toward him as my knee touched his. The soft fabric of my black stockings touched his brown, tweed pants. Smoke and fog mixed in front of our faces, creating a bubble of warmth.

“Like it’s going to end?” He looked at me, the blueness of his eyes so cold and sharp that I had to keep myself from gasping. “Everything’s going to end. Doesn’t mean one shouldn’t enjoy it while it lasts.”

“How very cliché of you.” I smiled, but his hand already crawled up my lower back, sending waves of energy through my spine.

“Well, look at me, Jade. Attitude problems, complex philosophies and the ultimate desire to get you in my bed. I am entirely made of clichés.” His words made me bite my lip, instinctively, but also, very much on purpose. This made Leon smile widely.

“And where do I fit in?” I asked.

“Good girl gone bad?” He pursed his lips, unsatisfied with the choice.

“I broke your girlfriend’s leg. I don’t think there was any good to begin with.” I purposely called Bella his girlfriend and watched him get caught in it.

“Ex-girlfriend.” He corrected me.

“Is Bella ever an ex-girlfriend?” I arched my eyebrow, satisfied when confusion awaited on his part. “At first, I thought she was the one breaking up and getting back together with you. But I realised it’s you.”

“It’s a strange dynamic.” He tried, but I cut him off. I wasn’t angry at him, or trying to set him on a better path. I was actually very much enjoying it all.

“You find someone you like better for the moment and you leave her. And once you’re done with the new toy, you go back to safety.” I read him like the open book he was, despite his clichéd, complex philosophies.

“I am not going to say your words aren’t true, but they don’t answer my question.” He seemed untouched by my remarks.

“And what’s the question?”

“Are you going to kiss me or not?”

Letting go of everything? Forgetting there were scruples? Living for once in this goddess forsaken moment that was the only thing we really had?

In a split second, my hands grabbed him by the neck, his cigarette falling on the ground, the witch’s brew dangerously swinging next to me. Shallow breaths, freezing air and the stench of alcohol lulled me into the mood. Leon pulled me closer and his warm lips found their way to mine, perfectly soothing against my cold skin. The rawness took over, as I grabbed his hair, pulling him closer, into me.

We fell into the rhythm quickly, sending each other to the place where rules didn’t exist. Making out with a potential fuckboy in the back of the building, a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of liquor on the stairs. Every parent’s nightmare.

Leon’s lips treaded down my neck, hot on my skin. It wasn’t desire exactly; it was need. Such hot, wrecking need. To feel alive. Leon’s hands grabbed my waist through the thick coat I had on, which slid off the moment I felt too hot.

A cough interrupted us. Leon’s hands left my body instantaneously and I desperately tried to hide the cigarette stubs around us.

“Get out of here.” Thar told Leon and I met the disappointment in his eyes. Anger boiled through me, not just because he interrupted us, but because he dared being disappointed.

“Go.” I told Leon when I saw him looking at me questioningly.

“I’ll see you later, Jade. I’m so sorry, Professor Adara.” Leon tried to take the bottle of witch’s brew, but Thar confiscated it.

“Go ahead, say whatever you have to say.” I demanded, not really in the mood to bicker. But Thar took a sip of the witch’s brew straight out of the bottle.

“This is too sweet.” He grimaced.

“It’s vodka with everything.” I said, confused.

“Well, vodka with nothing is a much better drink.” Thar sat on the stairs next to me, taking Leon’s place. A thought crossed my mind, that I wouldn’t mind him taking Leon’s place in other matters, as well. “You can do better than that kid.”

“What? You think I want to marry him? Leon’s something you get a taste of when you’re feeling bad.” I emphasized the word ‘bad’ and realised the witch’s brew was working its spell.

“This behaviour doesn’t suit you.”

“You sound like my dad.” I laughed dryly and Thar’s gentle eyes widened as if I insulted him. But he interrupted my make out session and I was pissed off. “You don’t get to tell me what suits me and what doesn’t.”

“You’re behaving like a child, again.”

“Well, you’re not exactly letting me be a grownup.” I countered and got up. “I barely slept and I studied magic all night, just to be scowled by my father for doing it. I begged to help and none of you would let me, under the pretence that it’s not supposed to be my problem, that I shouldn’t worry about it. Well, if that’s what you want, then I won’t worry about it. But don’t you dare come here and tell me I’m behaving like a kid then.” I stole the bottle from his hand, touching his fingers in the process. Thar’s eyes met mine.

“Get some sleep, Jade.” He murmured. “You have practice at 4pm with me. I’m going to teach you how to fight.”

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