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Funeral Boy

Roman attends his best friend's funeral

By Salem RoséPublished 4 years ago 4 min read
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Funeral Boy
Photo by Daniel Jensen on Unsplash

Roman stared at his reflection in the mirror, buttoning his black dress shirt up with his nose in the air. He darted his eyes to the right of his mirror, where he could see his bedroom door open. There stood a woman with a concerned look on her face. “Are you sure you’re okay Roman?” she said. “Mom, how many times do I have to tell you. I’m fine.” His worried mother raised her perfectly plucked, brown eyebrows. Roman was a proud boy. He was never the type to show his weaknesses. “You haven’t been acting like yourself.” she said. The boy slightly parted his lips and huffed in frustration. He was easily irritated and most definitely did not enjoy being poked and prodded like this, but he raised his head even higher. An entitled, arrogant boy by nature, his intimidating aura started to grow stronger. His mother sighed. “Be outside in ten minutes.” she turned to a tall older man, holding an expressionless face, as always. “Wadsworth, please make sure he’s down by ten. Late arrival is horrendous for the family image.” Wadsworth was the family’s butler. A strong silent type, he has known and served Roman since he was an infant. He nodded in response and watched her head down the marble stairs, with her head hung low and a frown on her face. Roman had the whole household worried. He’s been acting differently, since the death of his best friend, Finny had died. He’d become more robotic since then, his face harder to read and demeanor significantly more haughty than usual. He acted as if Finny’s death had no effect on him.

Upon arriving at the funeral, Roman was approached by many guests, offering their condolences. To their surprise, his face stayed neutral. The guests eyed him as he approached his best friend’s casket. Beside the boy’s casket was a beautiful couple. The woman cried on her husband’s shoulders, as they watched them lower their son’s casket into the dirt. Roman looked around him, observing the guests in their all-black clothes. The women were crying and blowing their noses into their handkerchiefs and the men stood there and stared at the casket, a sturdy look on their faces. Roman scoffed. All these people pretend like they care. Finny was born into a filthy rich family. His mother practically bathed in jewels that his father had bought for her. As for Finny, he’d attended the most prestigious schools, always had a different girl clinging to his arm every day, like the jewelry that draped all over his body—the perfect image of a privileged, rich boy. The family buried their son with not only roses, but all kinds of treasures, like diamonds and gold. They dressed him in only the finest clothing from the finest store in the country, a gold crown on his head, as if he was the king. Roman smirked. “How pathetic. A truly ridiculous way to showcase the family’s power and social status.” This was most likely the only reason why these people attended. No one really cared that his best friend died. Hell, not even Roman himself, who was supposed to be just devastated at his loss. Finny had only been his best friend on the papers, which really helped his family’s reputation shine.

Later at night, Roman sat in the study room bored out of his mind. It was during these times that he missed Finny’s presence, when Finny could have been entertaining him with his mindless antics. So, he had decided to visit his best friend’s grave. He thanked Wadsworth, as he opened the car door and closed it behind him. Roman walked up to the place where he knew he would find a tombstone, reading “Finnian Daams”. Yet, he was only met with a massive hole in the ground. He widened his eyes, disgusted at the sight before him. His best friend’s casket was wide open and the corpse was missing, so was a handful of jewels that Finny had been buried in. “Wadsworth.” he said, motioning the butler to come forward. “Someone dug up his grave.” At this moment, Roman’s thoughts have been validated. The guests had only come for the family’s riches. That’s until he looked up and saw a familiar figure in the distance. Trudging in the grass, was a boy with messy, blonde hair, leaving trails of gold behind him.

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About the Creator

Salem Rosé

I love writing ✍️

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