Vigil.

So… The time struck way too early, but I had to go. My beloved church. Haven’t been in it for close to nine years. My beloved church. She made me so furious when her geographical pin point was relevant to me. There I found myself, standing outside of it, reluctant to enter. I don’t think any of us has the church on our side. We’re all mutually disgusted by this place. Particularly the one this night was for. But now, now my relentless hatred for this brick buildning built by bigger lies that you can ever imagine had to be pushed aside, just for this evening.. Every brick on this property was laid to rest on the pillars of faith, funded by the inhuman forces plaguing our citizens. Our fathers, our mothers… They were the ones who built this house along with all the roads and all things related to what we live. However their name will always be inferior to Him, the son and the Holy spirit. Have the church ever given us freedom? Enlightenment? Unity? A place to go to when tragedy occurs? I feel only the latter applies. I didn’t feel anything when I crossed the line. The doorstep. I felt it when I walked over the other line and into the the void, into the church room itself. Where all my friends were. Where all my friends cried. They cried in silence, they sat there in silence. I felt it, it hit me hard. Just when I saw one of them laying his head on his neighbours shoulder, just about when I saw he laid his hand upon her shoulder and she laid her face in her hand. Gasping for air as he tears tumbled downwards to hit the ground. I sat down with them. In silence. The priest stepped up and spoke. Only a few sentences, then left us in silence again. We sat for a while. Thoughts weren’t running through my mind. Nothing.

“Let’s light a candle”.

I won’t light a candle. Not in church I won’t. He wouldn’t want us to. I lit a candle. What do I know what he wants now? I lit one of the candles and placed it in front of his picture. Next to his picture was his brothers picture. “Them kids in that fimily are just to damn alike, you can’t tell them apart…”

“Were. They were alike.”

He was right. They were. You can’t cope with that. Yesterday you couldn’t tell them apart. Now you can’t, simply can’t. My tears were tumbling down my face. Urging to hit the ground. We embraced each other. All of us who were left. I cried. We later on met up in one of our houses, where God has no voice. The aura was so thick of sorrow. There were so many pictures on the table. Hundreds of moments captured. All memories we’ll always have. All of those enlightening minutes with him, the hours of laughs, the years of unity. The television set was on, looping old video footage. The laughter and smiles he shared with us. He was in the room. Spraying us with the oh so familiar quotes and persona he was known for. The aura softened a little, but we kept in mind that we’ll never be able to make new memories along with him. There’s scarcely any comfort in this, but we’ll keep these memories alive. Good memories. There just should have been more. We sat there all night. None of us said much, only videotapes rolling and flicking through old photographs.

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