The Funeral
The night wind roared like a wounded beast, pushing against the towering trees that surrounded the narrow forest path. Arthur’s lungs screamed for air, but he didn’t dare slow down. His fingers dug tightly into Jane’s wrist as they sprinted across the damp, moss-covered ground.
“Come on, Jane! Run as fast as you can!” Arthur gasped, stumbling forward as branches whipped against his arms.
“No, Arthur… I… I can’t…” Jane panted, her voice fragile, trembling with exhaustion. Her knees wobbled, and she clutched her side where a bruise was already forming.
Arthur didn’t think he had reacted. In one swift motion, he scooped her up and lifted her onto his back.
“We’re almost there,” he said, though he wasn’t sure if he was saying it for her or for himself.
Behind them, the thunder of boots echoed through the forest. The royal guards, armed and furious, broke through the foliage, their torchlights flickering like hungry eyes.
“Stop! Surrender now!” one of them shouted.
Arthur didn’t look back. He could feel the heat of their torches on his neck, hear the metallic clink of armour as they drew closer.
The trees parted, revealing a wide open path that led directly to the silver lake shimmering under the moonlight. Arthur’s heart lifted—just a little. The lake was their only chance.
But Jane’s weight on his back slowed him down. His breaths turned sharp, ragged. His feet stumbled on roots and pebbles. His legs burned.
Still, he ran.
He ran because she’d asked him to trust her.
He ran because he loved her more than his own life.
He ran because she had once saved him from the darkest parts of himself.
But fate caught up to them.
Just as they reached the edge of the lake, a guard leapt forward and grabbed Arthur by his shoulder. Another seized Jane’s arm.
“No!” Arthur shouted, twisting and kicking, but he was outnumbered. Within seconds, more guards surrounded them, swords drawn, eyes fierce with authority.
Arthur and Jane were dragged through the muddy path, back toward the palace that loomed in the distance like a monstrous shadow.
Inside, the throne room echoed with cold, bitter silence as the doors slammed shut. Jack sat upon the raised throne—his eyes sharp, cold, filled with a fury Arthur had never seen before.
Arthur glared at him, his chest rising and falling heavily as the guards forced him to his knees.
“Hey, Jack!” Arthur spat, struggling against the guard’s grip. “I’ll show you who you really are to the world!”
Jack’s jaw tightened. Fury trembled in his fingers as he stood and snatched the sword from a guard. Without hesitation, he lunged toward Arthur, the blade gleaming under the chandelier’s light.
But before the sword could reach Arthur—
Jane leapt forward.
“No!” she screamed.
Her body collided with Arthur and pushed him out of the blade’s path. The sword plunged through her abdomen. Time froze. Her eyes widened, tears spilling before she even felt the pain.
“Jane!” Arthur cried, his voice breaking.
Jane collapsed into his arms. The warmth of her blood spread across his hands. Her vision blurred, and she heard Arthur’s voice—distant, echoing, fading.
But the name she heard wasn’t Arthur.
It was Jessie.
“Jessie…”
And then everything went dark.
Jessie jolted awake with a gasp, drenched in cold sweat.
Her room was dimly lit by the early morning sun peeking through the curtains. Her heart hammered inside her chest as if she had sprinted for miles.
“Calm down, girl,” Cathy said from her side of the room, brushing her hair in front of the mirror. She adjusted her spectacles and glanced over her shoulder. “Another one of your dreams?”
Jessie inhaled shakily and pressed her palms against her temples.
“Oh! It’s a head trip,” she groaned, closing her eyes. The dream felt too real—too vivid. The emotions still clung to her skin like mist.
She didn’t know who Arthur or Jane truly were… yet her heart ached as if she had just lost them both.
“Come on, babe, cheer up!” Jenny entered the room, still in her sports uniform, hair dripping with sweat. She plopped onto her bed dramatically. “My coach almost killed us today.”
Jessie didn’t even smile.
“You’ll understand when you’re in love,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Cathy rolled her eyes and pulled Jessie into a half-hug. “Edward is not gonna come back. Just move on, champ.”
Jessie’s throat tightened.
Edward.
The name alone was enough to make her chest cave in.
Her mind flashed back to the night she wished she could erase…
A few weeks earlier, Edward and Jessie had gone on a date to the Blue Jay restaurant. It was one of those magical nights—the kind Jessie secretly replayed when she couldn’t sleep.
Edward had looked handsome in a white shirt with rolled sleeves. He always smelled like cedarwood and fresh rain. He always talked with his eyes before he spoke with his mouth.
They laughed over dessert, took pictures near the fountain, and shared secrets in the car on the way home.
But everything changed when another car sped past them on the narrow lane.
“Chase it!” Jessie said impulsively, her excitement bubbling out. She loved speed. She loved danger just a little. She loved moments that felt like movies.
Edward smirked.
“As you wish, Your Highness.”
They laughed like two teenagers breaking rules for the first time. Edward sped up, catching the other car at the next signal. Both drivers looked at each other, the unspoken challenge hanging between them.
The light turned yellow. Then green.
Both cars shot forward.
Wind rushed. Engines roared. Jessie squealed in thrill.
But the thrill didn’t last.
Halfway through the road, a small child ran out chasing a ball.
“EDWARD! STOP!”
He slammed the brakes. Tires screamed. The car spun. Jessie felt herself jerk violently despite her seatbelt. The world blurred. Then
BAM.
They had hit a pole.
Jessie opened her eyes, chest heaving, ears ringing. Her seatbelt had saved her from major harm.
But Edward…
Edward wasn’t moving.
Her blood turned to ice as she leaned toward him.
“Edward? Edward, look at me. Hey—hey!”
Blood trickled from his ear. His eyes remained closed.
“Edward! Please! Edward!”
She checked his breath with trembling hands.
Nothing.
She screamed until her voice cracked.
“Hey, man.”
The voice pulled Jessie back from the memory.
Daisy stood at the door, arms crossed, wearing a deep frown. Her eyes softened when she saw Jessie’s face.
“Have you taken your meds?” Daisy asked gently.
“Nope,” Jessie muttered, looking away.
“Tomorrow is your session. Just take your meds, child,” Daisy said, her voice cracking. She walked closer and cupped Jessie’s cheek. “I need you to be happy every time.”
Jessie smiled weakly.
Daisy had been her anchor. Her constant. The one person who stayed even when Jessie pushed everyone away. And it was Daisy’s boyfriend, Neo—Edward’s cousin, who convinced Jessie to attend therapy.
During the funeral, Edward’s mother had cursed Jessie, calling her a murderer. A jinx. A reckless girl who destroyed their family.
Those words stabbed Jessie’s heart every night.
Therapy wasn’t just recommended.
It was survival.
Jessie finally took her medication and slowly got dressed for class. Daisy helped her fix her hair while Cathy and Jenny teased her to lighten the mood.
They rushed across the corridor, reaching class just before the bell rang.
Jessie exhaled deeply.
Another day. Another attempt at being okay.
But deep down… she knew something bigger was happening inside her.
Her dreams weren’t dreams.
Her emotions weren’t random.
Her soul wasn’t quiet.
Somewhere between reality and memory…
between Arthur and Edward…
between Jane and Jessie…
Something was waking up.
And it was only the beginning.
