Eulogy Of Dying River Novels & Stories

“What are you doing here?” “You dropped your wallet in my truck last night,” he said as he handed it to me. “I figured I would drop it off on my way to town.” I nodded. “Thanks,” I said. River started for the door. “Hey, um, how is your dad? You were getting feed yesterday. That's normally something he does,” I said. River sighed and turned to face me. His lips were mashed in a straight line. “He died a couple of years ago, while I was... away,” he said sadly.

He’s smart enough to trail and capture me and this time I’ll willingly die rather than experience a second of the trauma stored in that house. I jumped into a nearby river, the current sinking me to the floor of the river and with one last breath I let the water take me willingly welcoming the unknown. Freedom in death is a victory over the trauma woven in that place. My head began to grow dizzy, water knocking breath out of my lungs.

I had just finished speaking when I spun on my heel to leave. Behind me, Yvonne's voice, tinged with desperation, rang out, "Do I have to grovel before you'll even consider forgiving me?" I glanced back to see her bending over in a dramatic plea. "Thomas, I'm truly sorry, can't you just forgive me... please?" Whispers buzzed through the crowd around us. However, I did not look back, just kept moving forward. During my second month in Avrika, I put together a medical knowledge event.

Not empty, but oddly hushed. The cold didn’t bother me. I liked the bite of it. I passed the bakery, the bookstore, the little church that had never opened its doors to me. Not once in all my years here. I ended up at the river again. It always came back to this place. I stood there, staring at the dark water, thinking about Elena. I remembered the way she’d smiled. The way she’d told me I was too serious. The way she’d died. He’d taken her from me, and now, he was circling again. Same plan. Same poison.

"We've been following the orders of a rogue?" "Exactly," River confirmed, her voice lifted with a bitter edge. "This rogue is the true enemy, not Echo. The real Echo...” She swallowed, blinking back tears. “Have been killed by the rogues. My sister died many years ago.” Gratitude glinted in some people’s eyes, while in some, a burning desire for revenge was burning. What came next was something that melted River’s heart. "Thank you," a woman with red hair said. "Thank you for telling us the truth."

River explains, answering the questions I couldn’t ask. Hold on, something he had said causes me to frown. “But he said that he’s going to die,” I say, clearly remembering his words from that night. River breathes out a sigh. “That’s because he’s decided to die, Willow. He’s given up on living longer than the age of 30 and dying as the tumour spreads even though he can have it removed. He chose this and we think this is the reason why no one has seen or spoken to him in the last month.” River says, exasperated.

I could hear my heart racing after saying the words I'd kept to myself since learning that I was about to die. I thought I could be unaffected by my imminent death, yet I suddenly wanted to see more of the world. Gary didn't say anything. It was so quiet that I could hear my own breathing. Just as I thought he wasn't going to say anything, he finally spoke. His words made my heart descend into an abyss, though.

We've already lost too many people on this mission. The lava churns and bubbles, and I can hear Ted screaming beneath the surface, his voice muffled by the thick liquid. I curse and pace the grass. Damn it. We've come so far already. To be bested by this river is too shameful to even think about. "He's dead," John D says. "It just ... swallowed him up." I press my fist against my mouth, thinking hard, trying to ignore his blabbering. I need to look at this challenge from a different perspective.

Multiple ways of life. All coexisting. All choosing unity over division. River died twenty years after the battle. At one hundred and fifteen. They buried him beside the memorial. Beside nine generations of leaders. "He defended what we built," the eulogy said. "Not just with weapons. But with principles. He showed Earth that we are stronger together. That unity defeats division. That refugees can become defenders. Defenders can become teachers." "That is his legacy. Not the battle. But what came after."

How the hell am I supposed to live my life without her until the day I die or become a corpse on one of these burning pyres? I shift on my seat, my eyes fixed on the burning pyres, watching the flames eating away the bodies of the fallen and the ghosts of everything we’ve lost. Elder Miriam is rounding up her benediction speech, but in this moment, the only speech ringing inside my head is the truth I know deep down in my bones. Just like these families crying here at the riverside and choking on the grief of watching the burning pyres of the loved ones they've lost, I'm also crying and choking like them.