PONOS was the personified Greek spirit of hard labor and toil. The wide, gravel path snaked through a scrub meadow joining two working-class neighborhoods. Every kid in the neighborhood walked it ... [+]
It isn't raining. Heartbreaking moments are supposed to be accompanied by the sound of rain, or so the assumption goes. But it isn't raining. Not a single cloud is in the sky. The sun shines bright outside the old Gothic church. There is no sound of raindrops to accentuate the pain or a dark atmosphere to paint the grim picture.
It isn't raining. There is no storm brewing outside as Lilith's body lies in an open coffin next to the church's altar. The stained-glass windows cast sunlight on the decoration inside, on the bouquets of white roses in the center, and on the sides. The aisle is lined with lit candles, which reflect on the faces of the weeping people.
Standing next to the coffin, the pastor says a final prayer and then steps away from the altar to comfort the funeral guests. In the first pew sits an old man wearing all black with his gray hair covered by a black hat. His gray eyes are glued to the coffin, and a strained expression sits on his face as he absently holds the hand of a blonde woman a few years younger than him. The soft sounds of murmurs and sobs of some of the attendees are the only things that can be heard inside the church. Everything is quiet, at a standstill.
Suddenly, the silence inside the church is broken as the doors open with a bang. All the other guests turn around in shock to look at the source of the commotion, all but the old man. He keeps staring at the coffin and takes a deep breath. Finally, he turns.
Strutting down the center of the church is a young man with brown hair, dressed in a black suit. He walks until he is right next to the old man and then forcefully pulls him up by the collar of his shirt. The people of the pews behind them stand up immediately. The old man puts one hand up to signal them to stop. The guests put down their guns and hesitantly sit back down, but stay alert. The young man stares furiously at the gray-haired man, while the latter calmly stares back. Finally, the brown-haired man speaks,
"This is all your fault."
The old man sighs, "Are you really blaming me, Ian?"
Ian scoffs and looks even more furious—his breath stinks of alcohol.
"Of course, I'm blaming you. You were the one who raised us into this life. You were the one who proudly taught Lily and me how to shoot a gun before she even turned twelve. You were the one who started this stupid war. You were the one they were targeting. It's all your fault that she is dead!"
The old man's jaw clenches for a moment, and he leans closer to Ian, who has still not let go of the collar of his shirt. He speaks pointedly but quietly.
"Well, you were the one who was always supposed to take care of his little sister, to protect her. But where the fuck were you?"
He spits that last part of his sentence with venom. Ian lets go of the man's collar and pushes him back as if the contact and the words burned him. He takes a step back. His eyes are filled with a mixture of pain and rage. "Fuck you, dad."
The blonde woman speaks up. "Roberto, Ian, that's enough.", she says. Both men can feel all the eyes of the guests on them.
Roberto sighs and calms down. He looks at his son.
"Ian, son, blaming each other won't help at all. Please take a seat with me. Fighting won't bring her back."
"Shut the fuck up," Ian says shakily. He closes his eyes, "Fuck... I know that... You're right... So, what's the plan? What are we going to do? How are we going to make them pay?"
Roberto closes his eyes, lets out an even bigger sigh, and sits back down.
"We are not going to do a thing. It's done. They won. They took the most precious thing from me. There's no point anymore. They can't bring her back."
"What!? You can't be serious right now. There's no way in hell that we are letting them get away with this. They have to pay. They have to die."
"Ian, we take revenge, and what's next? They come for us again, and we keep killing each other until what?" He sighs, "I can't lose anyone else; it's done."
"You're such a fucking hypocrite. All these years with me telling you to stop these pointless wars, and nothing! And now that they took my sister, your daughter! You suddenly grow a sense of peace and decide that what? That you're done? No, that's not how this goes. No."
Roberto looks at him, exasperated.
"I can't do this anymore, son."
Ian stares at his father, backing away and shaking his head in denial. Then, he stops and looks straight at him. His face is dead serious.
"If you're not going to do anything, then I guess I'll be the one to make them pay," He says viciously.
Roberto glares at him.
"I forbid you to even try, Ian, you hear me?"
Ian lets out a humorless laugh.
"Oh, now you want me to stay away from the life you so wanted me to have, huh? No, you don't get a choice anymore just because you're now choosing to be a coward!"
"Damn it, Ian! I will not allow you to do something stupid out of the guilt of your own actions!" Roberto bites out.
"You put us in this position in the first place!"
"You left her alone!"
After these last words, they both fall silent, looking at each other with anger, breathing heavily.
Ian shakes his head and snarls, "This is pointless. You can't expect me to just sit here and watch as my sister is put into the ground, and nothing else happens. You want peace, now? Well, fucking watch me as I tear this city to the ground until every single one of those rats is hanged!"
Roberto shakes his head in defeat, "Ian-"
"No! You can't stop me," Ian takes a step back, looks at his father, and then at the other attendees. "And you can all sit here and play guard dogs to my father, or you can come and hunt with me. It's open season."
Ian goes up to the altar and looks inside the coffin at his sister, her body sitting still as if she were only asleep. He leans in to kiss her cold forehead and whispers, "Goodbye, Lily." He steps to the center of the church, pulls out a gun from his belt, and waves it in the air. He glares at his father, who looks at him in despair. "So, who the fuck is with me?"
Ian walks through the pews, with some tears falling from his eyes. He looks one last time at his father.
"Don't you even dare try to stop me."
He leaves the church. After his departure, some of the guests at the funeral slowly start to stand up. They nod at the father but ultimately follow the son to war. The church is now half empty, but once again, the quiet reigns since nobody dares to make a sound. Roberto holds his forehead with his hands while the blonde woman strokes his back. He looks up again at his daughter's coffin. He whispers.
"I'm sorry, my sweetheart, I failed you. I failed both of you."
A tear finally falls from his eyes.
It isn't raining. Heartbreaking moments are supposed to be accompanied by the sound of the rain, but not this time. Unfortunately, the same can't be said for what is coming since a storm of blood and bullets will soon drown the city in sorrows.