Part 7
THE FUNERAL
Wheaty opened the doors to the Wolf's Den. His eyes somewhat blinded by the morning sun. He grabbed Cecelia's arm and pulled her out of the bunker. He was carrying his Armalite Rifle with him because of the suspected Hunters and The Chosen out searching for Cecelia.
The road they walked was rocky, muddy and dry. For Cecelia was see her sister off -have a funeral without a corpse, but there was no flowers, nor a relic to bury because Cecelia had lost the night she was to be sent to Holland Valley,
They were just walking.
Cecelia prayed that when they returned to the Wolf's Den, she would have changed, that she would no longer feel lost about Amelia. Yes, she was gone and she would never return. Nothing could change it. Cecelia could try and forget about her sister; take revenge on Jacob ; or fall down rabbit's hole again. Down she goes.
The two people wandered for what felt like an hour. Silence was upon them; Nothing was said. Cecelia swore she could hear the air flow through her lungs,
"Is this yours?" Wheaty quarreled which such concern in his voice, breaking the silence between the two of them. His hand opened to reveal a necklace with a ring as the pendant. It was Cecelia's and she thought she'd lost it. "I found it that night, we brought you back to the Wolf's Den."
He meant the night she'd was in the truck and then something had happen, but she couldn't remember what it was.
They both wandered upon the Whitetail Mountains terrain, across the sunny tundra's of the rocks and passed the pine trees. The clouds swiftly and scornfully fell into the azure sky.
Now that Wheaty had given her, her grandmother's engagement ring, she could bury it. She could the ring on the chain and never have to it again. Why? Because it reminded her of Amelia. It prompted her to think about her sister -perhaps too much, and she'd burst into tears.
She didn't know where to bury it -perhaps with a flower. A pretty flower; not a weed. A flower that would symbolise how pretty and elegant and graceful her sister was. Preferably one she didn't have to pull out the ground, but one that was planted beside a tree, so she could know it was her sister grave.
The grave with no corpse.
"I'm going to bury it," Cecelia said, determination laced her words. Wheaty knew she meant the necklace.
Neither of them had any good topics to talk about. Not that Wheaty felt like talking about Eden's Gate to Cecelia since whatever happened at the St. Francis Veteran Center, and he wouldn't want to ramble on about music, not since now that Cecelia had suggested that she wanted to bury the necklace.
"Whereabouts?" Is all that the teenager could say. He didn't want to be impatient but he desired to have respect for the broken girl.
"I don't know," Cecelia knew exactly what she wanted.
Silence again.
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Cecelia had found a tree with a patch of wildflowers growing at the roots. She knew it was the tree to see off her sister. It was the one she'd set her eyes on.
The tree were slender enough -maybe enough to hug it; the brown shitty-coloured bark was cracked to the core; the leaves were a graven green that darken under the sun; the shadow of the cowered over the sharp blades of grass.
She stopped in her tracks, so did Wheaty.
Cecelia turned to him to say something: "Could I have a minute?" She'd asked it with such sorrow in her tone that her eyes seemed to be solemn, and almost clenched with tears.
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Conditioned To Kill - Far Cry 5
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