164 Burying kindness
The next day at the cemetery in Skellington town, people gathered around Katherina Moriarty’s casket in the already dug ground.
The young Moriarty boy stood next to his father, clothed all in black, wearing a black coat with fur around its neck and lapel. His sister Marceline was nowhere to be seen with them or in the cemetery.
The priest had been summoned to perform the burial ceremony and spoke about Katherina’s soul, which was now resting in peace. The priest’s voice was pushed to the background as Vincent watched his mother take her longest sleep, knowing she would never wake up again. After all, it was him who had closed her eyes to hide her sight from the awful world that had taken her away from him.
When it was time to close the deceased woman’s casket, Vincent felt pain hit his chest, similar to the lightning in the clouds. Snowflakes started falling from the sky, and the people who had come to attend the funeral slowly started to leave one by one after offering condolences to the Viscount and the boy.
Some of the acquaintances noticed the young vampiress to be missing, and one of them curiously asked Eduard,
“Is Miss Marceline well? Forgive me, it is just that I haven’t seen her here and was worried.”
Eduard nodded before politely answering, “She was feeling a little unwell and we thought it was best that she rests.”
“I see, that’s right. She’s too young and it must be hard for her after what she went through to attend her mother’s funeral. Poor child,” sympathised another acquaintance of theirs. “I am sorry that this happened to your family. Lady Katherina was taken away too quickly.”
While the adults spoke to each other, the young silver-haired boy continued to stand in front of his mother’s grave, staring at it.
Days passed, and one day in the Moriarty mansion during breakfast, the Viscount spoke to his daughter, who hadn’t visited her mother’s grave, which concerned him.
“Marceline, your brother is going to visit your mother’s grave at noon. Why don’t you go with him? There will be less crowd at that time.”
Marceline, who was silently eating her food, looked at her father and replied, “I think I will stay in the mansion, father.”
Eduard found it rather strange that even after weeks had passed, his daughter had not gone to visit her mother. He believed it was because Marceline had gone through too much trauma and couldn’t handle it, unlike Vincent. He said,
“I insist that you go and visit your mother’s grave. Pay her your respects, even if it’s short.”
The young vampiress clutched the cutlery she held and replied, “I don’t want to go there.”
“What’s going on, Marceline?” The vampiress’s father questioned. “Is there a reason why you have been avoiding visiting your mother?”
Vincent didn’t bother to indulge himself in the conversation even though he did hear and see what was going on. With Marceline being his sibling, he knew exactly what was happening with her.
“I don’t want to do anything with humans,” though young, Marceline’s words were curt. “Humans are weak, and are the reason why our lives has turned sad. I won’t visit a grave when she only lied to us that everything was going to be fine.”
“Marceline!” Mr. Moriarty glared at his daughter and scolded her, “You are talking about your mother and you will not disrespect her.”
“Why not!!” Marceline pushed her plate to the side, and the cutlery next to her on the table fell to the ground. The young girl screamed, “She is not my mother! I refuse to believe a weak woman like her is my mother! All humans are worthless and pathetic!”
“You will not speak another ill word about your mother, Marceline Moriarty, else I will send you to the Sabbit,” Eduard couldn’t believe how everything had changed their lives in a day. The vampiress’s body turned frigid on hearing her father’s words.
The Sabbit was where troublesome children were sent to study and behave properly, away from their families and could meet their family only once in a year.
“I won’t go there! Why don’t you ask Vince! He hates humans too! We hate humans–“
“You will visit the cemetery and that’s final,” ordered Eduard in a stern tone and with a glare that he had never used on his children until now.
The vampiress’s chair screeched in the dining room, and getting up, she ran towards the door and out of the room. Eduard sighed in frustration. If Katherina was alive, she would have told him everything would be alright, and like many things, this would pass too. But his daughter was testing him, and though she was his blood, he wouldn’t stand the little one from belittling the woman who gave birth to her.
“I will talk to her, father. Don’t worry about it,” said Vincent, his coppery-eyes meeting his father’s eyes.
Eduard nodded worriedly, “I must be doing things wrong.”
“You aren’t. We are all hurting, and you need your time to grieve over the loss. Leave Marceline to me, I will talk to her,” Vincent assured his father.
Vincent could tell that his sister’s words had shocked and upset his father. Their parents had brought them up with lots of love and had spoiled them like any young master and mistress of a pureblooded family. They had not once raised their hands at them, which was why it would be hard for his father.
During noon, Vincent stepped inside the carriage, and so did an unwilling moody Marceline, who crossed her arms and sat on the other side of the seat. The coachman opened the door when the carriage reached the Skellington cemetery, and the Moriarty siblings stepped in front of the old cemetery.
When the young children stepped inside, Vincent walked towards his mother’s grave, while Marceline dawdled at the front. Her eyes fell on Maxwell’s parents, who stood in front of another grave she believed to be her friend’s grave. The young vampiress’s feet quickly moved, and instead of following her brother, she made her way to where the Anderson couple stood.
Marceline was going to greet them when Mrs. Anderson sent her a glare, “What are you doing here?”
The young vampiress’s eyebrows furrowed, and she started to speak, “I–I came to–“
“Haven’t you done enough by stealing our only son, and now you want to steal the rest of our peace?” Mrs. Anderson demanded from the young girl. “If it weren’t for you, our son would still be alive! You wanted him to accompany you back to your mansion, when you could have gone back home yourself!”
“I-I am sorry,” whispered Marceline, her face paled and turned small.
“Always used to dragging him everywhere, and you dragged him to his death! You killed our only son!” Mrs. Anderson soon broke into tears, and Mr. Anderson put his arm around his wife’s shoulder to console her. “Stay away from us!”
The guilt that Marceline had felt when her friend Maxwell died had been buried deep down, making it hard for her to grasp the situation, and she stared at the Andersons.
Mr. Anderson looked at the vampiress and said, “I have already spoken to your father and we don’t want to do anything with you or your family. Vampires and werewolves are meant to stay away from each other, because together they bring troubles, just like what happened.”
“Maxwell was my friend…” Marceline whispered, feeling her heartbreak.
Mrs. Anderson wiped the tears from her eyes and said, “Stay far away from his grave and us. Far far away and it would be better if we don’t cross our paths ever again. Leave now.”
Marceline’s face turned red in embarrassment, and her lips trembled before she put up a smile as if everything was okay. Turning away from them, she made her way to where Vincent stood in front of their mother’s grave.
It was all her fault, the young vampiress thought bitterly. She despised the humans because of how frail and unreliable they were. She said to her brother,
“Can you believe what the Anderson’s told? That I shouldn’t visit Maxwell’s grave.”
Vincent, who had been staring at the headstone of their mother, calmly said,
“A person who cannot respect the woman who loved and took care of her, who is ready to turn her back on the person once she leaves. I am not surprised they don’t want you visiting Maxwell’s grave.”
“How can you say that, Vince? You were right there with me and you saw what happened,” Marceline’s eyebrows furrowed.
A small smile came on the boy’s face, and there was nothing kind about it. He said, “Are you sure you saw what I saw, sister?” He turned to meet Marceline’s gaze.
Marceline stared back at Vincent and complained, “If she was not a human, we would have been saved. Maxwell would have been saved too. We would not be standing here. It was because she was a weak hu–“
SLAP!
The young vampiress’s mouth was left open in shock after being slapped by her elder brother. Wind passed across the cemetery, picking dried leaves and pushing them to one side.
Vincent stated, “It is because of your recklessness all those things happened. Just because father won’t discipline you the way ought to be taught, don’t think I won’t. If you have nothing nice to say about our mother, don’t talk about her.”
Unshed tears brimmed in the young vampiress’s eyes before she ran back to the carriage without speaking another word.
Vincent turned back to look at his mother’s grave and remembered something she had told him.
‘You don’t have to follow what others do.’
While Katherina had meant it so that her son could be kinder, the silver-haired boy’s eyes darkened and he took it another way.