We arrived at the graveyard only to be upset to see people that had died and that will be remembered, I saw the people in those cars again, only this time burying their loved one .Jake: my friend finally did the prank which saw him with 2 hours of detention, the teacher was so wound up that he called for us to be banned from trips and that we had to go back. On the way back the weather turned malicious on us throwing at us hail stones packed with a fatal thunderstorm, it looked to me like it was going to be a very upsetting day, having to observer an unpleasant weather and a frightful cemetery visit.
We finally arrived in the school again; we quickly ran in to the class room to be glued to the radiators. ”Seamus, want to go to the cinema today after school” my friend asked “yeah, I guess so” I replied. Then just as the supply teacher was going to give us a task BANG…
The door BANGED broad as it walloped the wall causing everyone to be noiseless. She (my head-teacher) glanced at the class proximately as if she was searching for a celebrity, then she saw me, I knew she was looking for me because of the way she gave me that…that benevolent look which had made me feel moderately depressed. She called me out to the administrative center, I was wondering what could have happened? We entered the office I could see a visage which I thought I knew…. Who was he/she?.....It was my fellow citizen, in a black dress; I was tremulous when I saw her because it’s not often you witness your neighbor drive out 100miles from her house to your school to congregate up with you. I was wondering “what’s up, with her” she told me, “come on Seamus it’s vital”. We hurried to the car….
I memorized her giving me that look, who my head-mistress gave me, through the interior mirror. I truly started to be concerned, what’s happened? I kept thinking has someone “bitten the dust”. We were on the M1 as was arranged, my eyes had observe a lot of black roses which really subordinated the atmosphere in and around the car, because I often see red roses; but the weather was horrifying and I was seeing black roses… I sought to query my neighbour on what was going on but she was in a downhearted mood. The weather conditions and everything around it wasn’t great, even the vibe around the car. I didn’t hear a squeak from my neighbor throughout the whole journey apart from, “I’m sorry Seamus” I was wondering what could she be sorry for? We came to our boulevard as crowds in black dressings were flocking to my residence...BANG it hit me; I knew what was going on, it was like this was planned for me with all the things that happened. We arrived at my house, commiserations were all around. Tears squirted from my eyes.
I stumbled towards my front yard and I was put ill at ease by old men standing up to shake my hand and saying “sorry for my trouble”, whispers informed strangers “I was the eldest”. I crept in the living room to discover my dad weeping: He had always taken ‘funerals in his stride’. I underwent sensations striking me as I saw my mum wavering with sorrow. I stepped towards her to hug her, and she put me in the picture of what happened. I didn’t know what to say, I was so shocked to see my dearest mother in that state she “coughed out angry tearless moans”, I was down in the dumps when I heard my mum telling me “what was up”. I remember I ran to my room and stayed there with an expression of grief. The mood of the house was so dark; it felt as if we were in a haunted house. My T.V was on and a series was on, showing a casualty of a kid. It just wasn’t right. Normally my room would be filled with sparkling colors, but not today; it was dark.
I keep on thinking how could this have happened, where were my parents at the time of incident, why did this happen to me? I was feeling so down in the dumps, every time I had thought about it. The atmosphere was being minute by minute inferior by the people walking in and out with pity. Why did this happen to me? I kept on repeating to myself….why.....Why? My father approach in to my room bursting with tears he hugged me and said “its ok son, everything’s going to be alright”, but that didn’t change anything. I started to realize all the things that happened: the school trip, the funeral, the bad weather and the black roses all lead to this, maybe it was a sign of things to come or maybe it was fate. I was really worn-out at that time with all the weeping and apprehension. I could hear someone screech “yeah a four foot coffin, ok” who then made me remember of all the superior times we had playing with each over, and me looking after him.
I remember having a bad headache and being really tired and wanting to go to sleep and thinking if I wake up this could all be just a dream... it was hard for me to go to sleep with all the constant people coming in and out and my headache wasn’t great help to, but when I finally did go to sleep I was thinking I was with him playing with him looking after him just as I wanted it to be, me helping him in his school work and his homework. But my dream got darker and darker I couldn’t see him anymore, I was frantically looking for him to find out where he had vanished, I couldn’t find him anymore….” I woke...It was a nightmare I was convinced that my mum was telling the reality. It was a dreadful day; the tone was so ghastly because of the disaster.
I was well-versed by my mother that the ambulance had arrived with the cadaver, ‘stanched and bandaged by the nurses’, yesterday in the hours of darkness. I remember going to see him; I had to wear a black suite. I saw him the first time in ‘six weeks’ in his space, garlanded with flowers and white candles and toys everything that a little boy would like to encompass with him. I was so wretched when I saw him in the coffin; it was the first person I had seen in a coffin with a ‘poppy bruise in his temple’. It was hard for me to say goodbye to my dearest, but I managed it and I plead to God that he would have a great after-life where there will be candles and snowdrops everywhere. The atmosphere was like the atmosphere when I had visited the burial ground at school; very disheartening, with everyone containing an expression of grief. It was the first time I’ve seen him in ‘six weeks’ and now the last. He rested there in a “four foot box….a foot for every year”, my dearest brother.
