Psychological Story Contest

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is from the prospective of a boy named Will, who is a demigod son of Ares. His friend Ameretta had just died in battle against the Roman Legion.


There were no more tears. My eyes simply had stopped shedding them. I wanted to scream and to hide. But I couldn't not come tonight. I had to.
Wrapped in the pink and black shroud with a gold outline was my girlfriend, Ameretta. Who was dead.
A long, green spear was embroidered in the center of the shroud. A small plaque was carried in a white cloth while we spoke about who she was.
I didn't care. All I knew was that my rock, my girlfriend, my first and only love, was gone.
I was supposed to be strong, silent, and brave. I was supposed to be smart, kind, and unfeeling.
But I'm not. Not inside. Only Ameretta noticed this, and she managed to get in my shell.
I am called forward to speak, but I can't. My throat tightens and hot tears blur my vision. My knees buckle and I fall, hitting the ground with a thump. And finally, I cry again.
People come up and pat my back awkwardly. I don't move. I just wish they would all go away.
When all that's left is dry-sobbing, I straighten to see a burning arrow hit the shroud, and the funeral pyre.
Ameretta and the shroud go up in flames. I suck deep air from the night sky and try not to collapse again. Instead, I stare up at the stars, looking past the floating embers and smoke.
I don't know who I am anymore. Somebody passes me Ameretta's funeral plaque, which I am to put on the hotel wall.
We march inside, and stand in the entry hall.
I slowly unwrap the plaque and, without seeing it, place it on the wall.
It is celestial bronze, with black lettering, except for her name. I finally bring my gaze to it and burst into dry sobs.

Ameretta Lawrence
b. 08/01/1996
d.07/05/2012
There is always a light in darkness.

Arms press around me and help me to my feet, leading me to my room. I am totally unaware of anything but Ameretta, her various faces flashing past my eyes.
My love. My friend. My leader. My life. My everything. Never to see her 17th birthday. I decide then, to do what she wished, what she told me two nights ago, before we marched into battle.
I will not go easy. And I will fight for her.