Post by lain mackney rurik on Jul 31, 2006 15:22:31 GMT -5
"She won't talk to me." is how the speech began. "I guess, she's pretty busy lately. I'd like to believe that.. she's listening. I hope she is."
Mikhail paused, inhaling a small breath.
"She always seemed to be in some sort of trouble, and when she wasn't, she'd take on the troubles of others."
His hands gripped more tightly at the speech box, so tight his knuckles turned white.
"Lain Mackney was..." he stopped, eyes burning red with tears. He'd been unable to cry until now. The papers on the speech box didn't make anymore sens.
"She was...too trusting, I guess."
He lifted his hand, reaching into his suit pocket, pulling out a piece of paper.
"She had a last request." he said, looking up, then unfolded the sheet. "That I read this."
He licked his lip, looking over the crowd before he began.
"Sean Blaylock." he said, searching the crowd for a face that stood out. "You made the right choices.You were a leader. I wish I could have been."
He stopped, brushing his hand through his hair.
"That's all that was writting on the sheet." he then said, not understanding the actual meaning behind the words that were so basic.
Mikhail frowned, folding the paper, holding it tightly between his fingers. Some may have thought it innapropriate, but not Jov. He understood and he had his reasons. Lain had her reasons.
_____________
Amia was nowhere to be found. Those who would look could easily find her, or those to hurt by the words Mikhail spoke and had to look away. Or even though who felt ackward sitting in the black chairs, standing in the back. They were outside, a bright beautiful day. Lain would never go on a cloudy day.
Her twin sister was pacing far behind Mikhail, near a tree, cigarette after cigarette being lit. Her hand continued to touch at her heart. It stung. It hurt. Her hair was braided back into a bun, and her black dress went knee lenght. She had heels on her feet, which made walking on grass ackward. She seemed to be talking to herself, yelling at herself, crying to herself.
A young man, in his twenties, stood from the crowd. An older one, who was well known as Nickolos, stood up, a hand on the other's shoulder. He pressed against it, then moved out to Amia. When he arrived, he'd been rough and taking the cigarette away. He'd held at her wrists while she'd crumbled onto the ground, until she finally had to wrap her arms around him and cry into his chest. Small fists still hitting him, but unable to hurt.
____________
Mikhail had stepped down. He was no longer able to speak. Hands extended out to grip at his shoulder and pat him on the back. It was a way of support he supposed. There was no one his age besides his sister's. All the MI7 students, even his friends, had gone off on the trip to Paris, France. He had wanted to go. Monika and Zeny had wanted to go. They would. He would fly there himself and make sure they were alright.
Money was no issue for this family anymore, it seemed. It seemed their grandmother had a wealthy sum she'd left to Lain. Of course, Lain had been too stubborn to take it and placed it into an account for her three beautiful children. Who would have thought money could no longer make people happy?
As he sat with these thoughts, he felt a hand curl inside of his. Brynley. He'd asked her to be there. He cared immensely for her, she let him feel strong in moments when he needed strenght. She made him content in a way he hadn't been before. His hand squeezed hers.
____________
Husband and children stepped forward, dropping roses and vanilla orchids onto Lain's coffin. It was soon to be lowered into the grown. Vanilla orchids had been her favorite flower. Had been. She was lowered, and only a stone with engravings was left ;
LAIN MACKNEY RURIK
mother. wife. agent.
