ACT I
“There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.”
–Julius Caesar (4.3.249-52)
SHE WATCHED FROM A DISTANCE as they lowered his body into the ground.
Her face remained solemn at the realization: six feet underground is where he would lay forever. Her mind strains, trying to recall his sepia toned photograph among the lilies and chrysanthemums that decorated his memorial; he outshines them nevertheless.
Now, he was a smile that was frozen in time–perfectly encapsulated, in which nothing will ever change, only fade, as life continues beating its drum.
She forces her arm to hold the umbrella high, her face still dampened by the violent rain. Eyes stinging and chest aching at every moment passing around her.
People dressed in black started to crowd around the freshly dug hole as they begin to throw handfuls of dirt into on top of the lowered casket. A woman, shrouded in black, briefly lifts her veil to cry on her husband’s shoulder while she watched her son go six feet under.
Theodora Lee brings a a handkerchief to the corner of her eye, letting the soft material absorb her tears, but the rain continues to spray across her sunken cheeks.
Another girl, who was around Theodora’s age, was dressed in similar attire, but only more expensive–more intricate in detail. She falls to her knees, gartering several gasps from the mourning crowd, yet no one moves.
The throbbing ache in Theodora’s throat soothes the whirlwind of emotions tearing through her mind. A hand immediately shoots up to her throat, hand rubbing in attempt to lessen the stinging pain.
My bestfriend; no longer a living person on Earth. A corpse destined to be decomposed by the frenzy of bacteria and insects within the dirt, will soon be nothing but bones in few years time.
The notion runs through Theodora’s mind in order to cope. He will be returned to nature, to stardust to be rearranged again. To hopefully, come back to me.
Something catches Theodora’s attention as the sudden feeling of being watched crashes over her. From the corner of her eye, she catches a glimpse of a tall figure. She quickly whips her head to the direction, umbrella briefly lowering in the process, but only to discover the figure has already disappeared into the creeping mist.
“Get a hold of yourself, Theo,” she repeats to herself over and over as if she were a machine rather than woman.
Rain kept pouring down on everyone. The sound of wailing and rain had intertwined into a melancholy symphony with the conductor’s baton raised by the devil himself.
The pitter-patter of rain rings through the empty cemetery.
His newly erected headstone melts into the sea of monuments and angels with hands clasped in prayer for the departed.
This person that she loved so dearly has deserted her–has left her alone in this world.
