“I’m sorry”
Those were the only words that seemed to fill the cold November air.
“I’m sorry”
The words repeated over and over again, in countless different tones, the words belonging to countless faces.
“I’m sorry”
And though it was spoken in the most trustful tones, never did those two simple words make anything better.
Nothing could.
The rain continued to pelt down from the sky, the sky that was filled with heavy grey clouds. There were people filling the entire estate, most didn’t know the deceased well, some were workmates that never really liked the deceased and others were family members.
And it was those family members, that were the most broken up about the departed.
“I’m sorry”
Over and over again, the words of a phrase were spoken, but each time it meant less and less to everyone. Occasionally someone would say “My deepest Condolences” or maybe “I’m so very sorry for your loss” But mostly, it was I’m Sorry.
The former’s name was Shayne Aragon. He was Twenty-one years old, a son, an older brother and a good person. Deep, deep down he was a good person.
But unfortunately, that goodness was covered by bitterness towards people. There were few people that Shayne really trusted.
“I’m sorry”
Honestly, Shayne hated those words. He had known his entire life that when someone says “I’m sorry” it was because in society it was programmed into people. When something bad happens you tell them that you’re sorry, even if you didn’t mean it.
In the corner of this room, ignoring all the people that told her that they were sorry, was Rosie Aragon. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she looked around the room, trying to hide her face from anyone who walked by. The loss of her older brother hadn’t hit her yet, as she had found out only a few days previously. It hadn’t sunk in that her brother had suffered from a heart attack.
It came as a shock to the entire family. Shayne had been in good health. He ran five miles every morning, he ate good food and took care of himself like anyone should. He should have lived a long peaceful life.
But he didn’t.
Now, people were standing around his old apartment, Shayne’s old girlfriend was sitting in the corner, fake tears running down her face as her friends comforted her, people were wearing the traditional black, there were some people laughing, some smiling, while others looked completely empty of emotion.
“Rosalia Aragon?”
Rosie looked up at the sound of her full name and was met with the face of the Preacher from the funeral ceremony.
“Yes?” Rosie sound, her voice void of all emotion.
“May I have a word with you?”
This question confused Rosie, though she didn’t let her confusion show.
She looked around the room for her parents, or maybe her aunts or uncles, but it seemed that everyone she knew had vanished like a puff of smoke in the breeze.
Looking back at the Preacher man, Rosie slowly got up from her chair and without another word, she was being led into her brother’s old study room.
Shayne was a law student. He’d wanted to be a Judge ever since he had seen Judge Judy on T.V when he was six years old. Or at least that’s what Rosie’s parents tell her.
Although Shayne and Rosie had grown up together, under the same roof, Rosie and Shayne didn’t know much about each other. Shayne spent most of his time in his room, from the time that Rosie was four to the time he moved out a year ago.
Rosie and the Preacher man walked into the Study and he closed the door behind them. The Preacher looked at Rosie as if he was assessing her, trying to tell if she was any sort of threat, which confused Rosie. She was a fifteen-year-old girl, what was the worst she could do?
Once the Preacher had surveyed her for a long enough time, he let out a sigh and began to speak.
“Your brother was a good man and I’m-“
“Very sorry for my loss. You give me your deepest condolences, Etcetera, etcetera. I’ve heard that all day” Rosie told him tonelessly.
Not noting her tone or lack of, the Preacher man chuckled quietly “I don’t doubt that”
“Sir, really, I shouldn’t be in here so is there something you need?”
Preacher hesitated for a moment, looking around the room and his eyes landed on the old desk, a thin layer of dust had accumulated on the wooden surface, Shayne’s old laptop laid open, although the screen was dark. His homework papers were all over the desk, no sign of order among the madness. Rosie could make out Shayne’s messy handwriting sprawled across the pages, looping a curving like he had been in a rush to write these things down, which wouldn’t have surprised Rosie in the slightest.
On the walls of the study room, were a few pictures. Abstract one, ones of landscapes. One the desk, among the papers, were three picture frames and Rosie knew very well. There was one of their family. Rosie’s mother Debora, Rosie’s father Nathan, Rosie and then Shayne. The picture had been taken while they were on vacation in Hawaii two years before. Rosie was smiling at the camera, showing her crooked teeth while Shayne was laughing at the terrible joke her father had just said.
And then the last picture was one of Rosie and Shayne. Just the two of them. It had been taken over the summer that year. The two of them had gone on a road trip to Stonehenge. Rosie, even though she was a little too big for it, was sitting on Shayne’s shoulders as Shayne sat on top of a large rock. The two of them were happily smiling at the camera. That was probably one of the most vivid memories Rosie had of her brother, and it was her favorite.
“No,” The Preacher said, knocking Rosie out of her train of thought “There is nothing I need. Have a nice day”
Rosie looked at him, blue eyes filled with doubt, but she believed him anyway and left the study room.
Behind her, the Preacher looked at her, his eyes filled with an unrecognizable emotion. But he stared after the young girl as she walked reluctantly into the party room, where most of the adults at the drinking age, had had one too many cups of alcohol.
