Dead Awakened/Episode 5 (old)

This is Episode 5 of Dead Awakened, set to be released indefinitely.

There Were Never Any Wasted Days
Place: Lauterdale Mall, First Annual Memorial Fundraiser Time: 9:17 AM

The mood was mournful. The people, the audience, had a certain degree of silence that amplified the person speaking on the podium. A councilman by the looks of it, judging from his suit and gray streaks.

“We, as a city, have made it through this. Today, among us, are the families of the victims, sharing with us this very moment of loss; we are here to lighten the weights on their hearts…—”

The families of all ten victims were present. Together, they made up a decently-sized crowd.

“There are mothers. Fathers. Sons, daughters… widows. Families of ten individuals…”

Mothers. Fathers. Sons. Daughters. Grandparents. They were all people with normal lives before this happened. One was a carpenter. Another, a firefighter. The other, a teacher. One of them, a cop.

A cop. James Sully. He was the only individual there with no other family member. The only one alone.

“Let us be their shoulders. Let us remember with them their losses. Let us help them carry the weight onto the next year, and the year after… let us help them move on.”

It had only been a year. To James, it already felt like it was a decade ago.

Time: 9:25 AM

Judging from the lack of microphone feedback and growing quietness, she could see that the speeches were coming to a conclusion. She was standing a far distance away, about the same distance as the news van, a few other individuals standing around her.

She was but a visitor. She had no relevance in the incident, no losses to share. She had just been dragged along by her stepfather.

She didn’t have to change her wardrobe much. She liked wearing dark clothing that reflected her dad’s income. The color of solitude. At least, that’s what she believed. Everyone else, like her, was wearing black here. Maybe they felt alone in their own ways.

She had been questioning what a Japanese-American businessman would need from… an event like this. She’s sure she’s gotten an answer, but she keeps hesitating about it; her father’s here to take advantage of some opportunities relating to business.

There was no denying the small concentration of powerful people attending this event; the mayor’s aid, a few members of the council, a state judge… maybe he was there to bridge some gaps for the bank. His bank.

Business, as usual. That was her dad. The only other member of her family.

The Junichi name is not well-known; reasonably so, for such a wealthy company. The name Junichi is involved with an up-and-coming bank, with locations in both Japan and here, in Bellforde. Her father, Aldrin, will just about jump at any business opportunity given to him. It was his job, after all; expand the bank’s name to gain a wider range of investors.

Business, and nothing but. Ann’s grown used to it. It was why she was always alone at home.

Ann had no classes today. She had even thought about reaching out to Neya, a new friend, but she believed it was too soon. She decides to instead look for her father among the crowd, urge him that she’s stayed her visit enough so that she could go home and play Sims 2, or do homework or something.

She reaches the concentration of people, all wearing black, shaded from the sun and wind from the roofs of the outdoor booths. A sting of sadness and mourning soon hits her, but it’s only momentary; there’s a certain heaviness to it that she’s grown accustomed to.

Her attention shifts to the families of the victims, all confiding to each other, shedding tears, comforting those who need it. By the looks of it, they will take just about any condolence given to them. Even if it’s from a stranger. Like her.

She scans once more for her father, near the speaker’s podium, and sees him to be shaking hands with other suited, older men. She was right. He was here for business, yet again. All that display of care on their way here didn’t last long enough.

Ann decides to leave. He probably wouldn’t have cared. But she stops, at the sight of an old man picking up a little girl and comforting her, crying silently, not loudly, like children would…

Ann spreads her look among the families again. Exchanges of embraces from others, relatives, presumably. “Everything will be okay,” she heard them say. “The first year’s the worst.” “You’ll make it through.” “She won’t forget this.”

Out of impulse, Ann receives an embrace from one of the families. A middle-aged woman, wearing a nice dress. A mother. “Sorry for your loss,” she mutters. “Thank you dear,” the woman comfortingly replies.