CHAPTER XIII. FUNERAL
When we've finally entered the church, we make the decision of staying at the back; not wanting to intrude on the actual ceremony. My question regarding the body is answered as soon as we step inside and my eyes are laid on the open casket. But Blake appeared more alive than he did when we found him, a tux was now on his body and his face had likely been powdered to give him more colour. We had arrived just as the priest was introducing somebody up to speak.

'And so, it is an honour to invite Blake's brother, John, up to the stand to say some words.' The priest says before he is replaced by a young boy, of similar age range to Blake, with similar features.

'Blake -' He takes a moment to clear his throat, 'Blake was my best friend. Yes, he was my brother and it's expected that we would have a close bond. But no, Blake was more to me than just a close bond. We had grown up intertwined with each other like flowers. Blake was three years older than me, I'm only fourteen, but I find it damn sad that I have to see the funeral of my older brother. He was wrongfully taken away from our family.' The boy stops again, but this time tears are beginning to tumble down his cheeks. I find that I, myself, am also crying; Harry softly squeezes my hand but he too gulps with sadness. 'Blake was murdered. He was the kindest soul I had and will ever have the good fortune of meeting, but now he is gone. My best friend is gone. And - and - I'll never get him back again.' He begins to sob.

We can hear him take a deep breath before speaking again. 'I will always remember the time when Blake saved my life. He was walking with me to a park, it was a hot summers day so we thought it was the perfect time to play some soccer. I was kicking the ball along the sidewalk when it fell into the road, I was around eleven then so I just ran into the road after it. A car horn was soon heard, but I didn't realise until it was too late. I thought it was the end, I thought I was going to get hit by the car and die.' He stops to look towards Blake's casket, I can hear a sob from the first pew and it comes from a blonde-haired woman. The boy looks towards her with sympathy and it's clear that she's his mom. 'I felt two hands grab my shoulders and, with all their might, push me to the other side of the road. What I remember most was how I fell against the hard concrete and noticed the car stop, I recall feeling relieved that I had got out alive. But, then I noticed that the car had really stopped because - it had hit Blake. He was still alive but suffered a broken rib - even on the floor, he kept telling me: I'm okay, John, I'm okay. I just wish, more than anything, that he could tell me that now.'

He sobs again, all of his features had finally crumbled and he fell into a series of wails. 'I - I love you, brother.' His hands flew over his eyes, wiping them, before he stumbled back off the stage. The priest put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder to comfort him, but he headed past him and hurried down the aisle. He gathered speed and ran straight past Harry and I near the doors. The blonde-haired woman stood and ran after him, her mascara was smudged all the way to her chin.

Blake no longer was merely a body to me. He had a family, he had people who adored him, and he had a brother who cared for him more than himself. It felt like a deeper meaning had enriched our discovery, we needed to find justice for Blake - for what he went through. He took a bullet for the rest of us, he was the chosen one for the murderer; he had took the pain so that others hadn't had to. That is until two weeks had passed, and another murder was sure to take place. The whole situation made me feel nervous for what could be.

'This is the time we have dedicated for the visitors to see Blake before the casket is closed, to pay their respects for a life once lived. There will soon be a separate gathering for his immediate family, Blake's mother instructs the family to meet outside in half an hour near the funeral car.' The priest instructs and people begin to line up down the aisle, to spend time at his casket.

'Do you want to visit his casket?' Harry whispers, his mouth so close to my ear that I can feel his breath gently hit it. I don't say a word, instead just shaking my head, and he understands.

We stay stood there for a few minutes, Harry peering around the church for possible attendees that we could speak with.

'So, how do you know my sweet grandson?' We are suddenly startled by an old man whom has approached us. He had a receding hair line, his grey hair still at the back and sides of his head. His eyes were a sapphire shade, and were laced with sadness. The silver eyebrows above were arched down at their ends, he looked unguarded of emotion.

Harry gulps again before finding words. 'We, me and my... girlfriend,' His thumb intimately traces the outline of my fingers and I send him a puzzled glance, 'We were friends of Blake. Well, more like acquaintances, but we thought of him as a - friend.' He was clearly nervous and Blake's grandfather realised this.

'Don't worry, son. Just knowing that you're here paying your respects is enough, it doesn't matter if you weren't particularly close to him; I know Blake is thankful for your visit.' He reassures Harry and I give him a sympathetic grin.

'We hope things take a turn for the better in your family. We're so sorry for your loss.' I speak up and Harry's thumb traces circles over my hand. It sends butterflies of encouragement through my stomach.

'Thank you, dear. Ever since I lost my wife to cancer last year, I thought things were going to get better... but you know what they say, three times lucky.' He responds with a shrug.

'Do you know if any other of Blake's friends have attended today?' Harry interjects and his grandfather looks deep in thought for a few seconds.

'As a matter of fact, I have just been thinking about that. I have to say that I was expecting a few more of his friends to attend, I just assumed that they're too upset to come. But I did think it was a bit empty here today.' He explains, Harry nods from beside me, and the sympathetic expression is still on my face.

'Have you met some of his friends? I can't remember many of them.' Harry asks, trying to seem natural.

'You're asking the wrong man, son. I can't remember most of the people I met yesterday.' He sends a forced chuckle our way and turns to head away from us, but halts. 'Actually, come to think of it - there was one boy I met who he was friendly with. The only reason I remember him is because of his accent, he isn't from around here - from England, I think. He moved here a few months ago, I think he told Blake that he was starting the high school nearby - oh, what's its name?'

'Foundered High?' I interrupt, feeling the room begin to spin around us.

'Yes! That's the one. They had become quite friendly with each other, so I'm surprised that he isn't here. I guess we all grieve in different ways.' He finishes and my heart finally sinks. Harry's hand continually squeezes mine, I could tell that he was prompting me to keep it together and not burst out sobbing in front of Blake's family. 'I'm going to speak to other visitors, it was lovely meeting you.'

'The pleasure is all mine.' Harry replies kindly before the grandfather leaves. I let go of Harry's hand and clutch the wall behind me to keep myself from falling. Was his grandfather talking about Nico? Was Nico a part of this? 'We should go outside for some air.' All I do is nod and Harry grips my wrist, softly tugging me out of the giant doors and near the outer brick wall. My breathing suddenly seems hard to get and I burst into a series of sobs, yet no more tears appear.

'I'm all out - of tears.' I stutter and Harry wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me to him like a baby. My head falls onto his shoulder as his other hand holds the back of it, his fingers running through my hair. 'Is Nico the murderer?' I mumble so others can't hear.

'I don't know. We'll find out soon though, I hope.' It is a few minutes before music can be heard from inside the church. We let go of each other as people begin to spill out of the entrance and stand nearby.

Every breath you take,

Every move you make,

Every bond you break,

Every step you take,

I'll be watching you.

The music becomes louder as four men soon step outside, each holding a part of the now-closed casket. I can't help my mouth falling wide open at the lyrics flooding the area around us. It seemed to be Blake's voice, Blake's words, Blake's warning to Harry and I.

Every single day,

Every word you say,

Every game you play,

Every night you stay,

I'll be watching you.

The casket moves slowly yet gracefully down the path from the entrance of the church to the funeral car parked at the sidewalk. I look across the path to now see Blake's brother and mother have returned, their hearts visibly breaking with each step the casket's carriers take.

Oh can't you see,

You belong to me,

My poor heart aches,

With every step you take.

I jump as I feel Harry's fingers urgently reach for mine again, and I realise that he feels the same as I do. He feels like Blake is speaking to him, he feels like he is being warned by the lifeless being inside the wooden box.

Every move you make,

Every vow you break,

Every smile you fake,

Every claim you stake,

I'll be watching you.

His casket now disappears into the back of the funeral car, and Harry and I are the first to escape the crowd. We hurry back to Harry's car, instantly enjoying the silence inside. It consumes us for a few minutes and we revel in it.

'Why would Nico be here out of the blue? He didn't even come here at the beginning of senior year, like you did. That's got to mean something.' Harry begins and I nod, though I don't want to believe it.

'How do we proceed with this news?' I ask, my voice is still quiet. Out of instinct, I reach for his hand and immediately feel comfort from the soft skin of his palm, his fingers moulding to my hand like it belongs there.

'You still want to hold my hand?' He questions and I glance up to expect a playful look on his face but there isn't, his eyes are slightly wide and he seems surprised in a positive way.

'I like holding your hand.'

'I like holding your hand too.' He replies, his thumb circling mine like it has frequently before. I can feel myself blushing but he doesn't acknowledge it aloud this time. Anxiety fills me at the idea of falling for Harry, but I realise that I probably already had. I just didn't want to fully act upon it, maybe never, at least not until the murders had been solved and I could sleep peacefully at night again.

'So, back to how we proceed?' I break the silence.

'Oh yeah. You invite Nico to my next party and we watch his every move. If anything suspicious happens, we'll figure out what to do at the time, but we'll just monitor him for now. Who knows, he may be completely innocent but we can't leave him in the dark.' He explains and I nod. 'Pinky promise that we keep this whole funeral ordeal secret?'

'Pinky promise?' I burst out laughing and he grins wide.

'Hey, it's the most truthful way of promising.' He states, his hand playfully jabbing at my waist and I burst out laughing again.

'Hey!' I jab him back and he starts to chuckle, soon we're both howling in amusement. Eventually, we're out of breath and I peer up to find his face closer than ever. His fingers reach up to touch my cheek, his thumb tenderly running along my cheekbone. He leans in slightly, I can smell the fresh mint of his breath engulfing me, but something flashes in his eyes and he stops himself, leaning backwards again. His hand drops from my face but intertwines with my hand again. My head falls against the back rest of the seat with exhaustion, and I try to keep the butterflies in my stomach at bay.

'Pinky promise?' He repeats, but seriously this time. He holds the little finger of his other hand in the space between us, I link my own with it.

'Pinky promise.'

(Double update! Please vote if you're enjoying it as much as I enjoy writing it.)