Excerpt: That was the best definition of the Aurelia family - we never showed weakness, feeling, or mercy. Lifeless. That was why, despite the depressing occasion, I was excited to go to my great-uncle and great-aunt's funeral. I got to see the one person in my life that didn't think I was a disappointment. She never told me to be stronger. She never tried to change me. Alvara was the one person I could count on in my life.
My hands flew up and down, crossing over each other in a blur. With one last tug, my tie was perfect. I straightened out my collar and tux jacket in the mirror.
“Crap,” I muttered. I’d forgotten about my hair. I ran a comb through my black mop until it lay flat. I wouldn’t have time to do much with it.
Sure enough, my mom called up the stairs, “Maximillion! Get down here NOW!”
“Coming!” I yelled back, throwing the comb back onto the bathroom sink and scurrying to the landing. My parents and little sister were there, looking like the perfect family, if the perfect family had no emotions.
My parents looked pretty colorless. Everyone in my family had black hair, but none of us looked alike. My mom had her hair in a short, severe bob, and had a bird-like face. She had a long nose and small, beady black eyes. My dad had short hair, but there were bright streaks of grey that shined with all the gel he used. His eyes were bright green, like mine and my sister’s, but his giant crooked nose overpowered them. They were both wearing simple but expensive black clothes against their pale skin.
My sister, on the other hand, looked almost too colorful to be going to a funeral. She had curly black hair and bright green eyes, plus she was wearing some freaky silver eyeshadow. Her dress was mostly black, but it looked more like it belonged in a circus than at a funeral. She stuck her tongue out at me when I gave her a strange look.
“Maximillion,” my dad chided. “She’s nine and you’re fifteen. You should know better than to provoke her.”
I rolled my eyes in my head. My dad didn’t give a crap about our age difference; he just loved Eris more than me. I had the scars on my back and chest to prove it.
“Yes, sir,” I conceded quietly. I folded my arms over my chest as we trekked out into the biting November air. They showed no weakness to the cold. That was the best definition of the Aurelia family – we never showed weakness, feeling, or mercy. Lifeless. That was why, despite the depressing occasion, I was excited to go to my great-uncle and great-aunt’s funeral. I got to see the one person in my life that didn’t think I was a disappointment. She never told me to be stronger. She never tried to change me. Alvara was the one person I could count on in my life.
I followed my family into the limousine. I stared blankly into the bleak gray sky, wondering, as I often did, what the point of my life was. I knew I wasn’t like the rest of the people in my family. In fact, I often thought of them as zombies. You know, those undead people who have bodies, but no souls and they walk around moaning and sucking the happiness from everyone they get near? Yeah. Those are my kin. Minus all the rotting flesh and rotten egg smell.
The sky opposed my mood, it seemed. The way the blanket of clouds disappeared and the sun began to weave its warmth throughout our whole estate made me think that someone, or something, or whatever controls those things, had a hilarious sense of irony. I just fell into a deeper depression as the sleek black Lincoln wound its way down three blocks to the cemetery.
However, when my father led us into the fancy tent they’d set up, I spotted salvation. My father muttered a “Behave, or else,” at me as I fished my way through the black sea of grievers. A few of them I recognized and I said a polite hello. I glanced back and saw my mother drifting from my father, socializing politely with all the other rich, high-status people there. Eris, unsurprisingly, had found the closest boy and began flirting, batting her ridiculous silver-painted eyes.
As I rolled my eyes, I turned and jerked myself to a stop. And just in time.