Pre-Order Until We Break as a print book now wherever books are sold through this link https://w.tt/3SVfd5k

"ASHES TO ASHES,"

The trees scattered in the Evergreen Memorial Park moved with the wind. Their leaves rustled loud and in succession, like a stadium's applause. Like mockery. It still, however, was not louder than the blood-curdling screams.

"Dust to dust."

Ms Morgan was wailing. Her voice ripped through the air with an indomitable type of grief that sucked everyone around her into it like a deep, infinite black hole. Despite the funeral's processions almost being over, she showed no signs of stopping, either. How could she? It was as impulsive as vomit and just as vile, acidic and burning. William Morgan knew she would not stop for a long time. There was no end to something like this. If anything, the end had already come and now she was stuck rolling forever like credits in a sea of all-black.

Across the grass, Mr Carson held onto a trembling Aspen and Ben clutched an unopened bag of M&M's in his fist. No one really listened to the pastor's words and William supposed the man dressed sharply standing over the six-foot-deep hole might have been used to things like that, especially on days like this. Everyone's attention was undeniably elsewhere. For William Morgan, however, it was on the bark of a nearby tree or the unkempt grave of a stranger. Anywhere but here.

Because while his mother had crumpled helplessly to the ground, writhing in the ruddy dirt as if she was pleading for hell to give her back her daughter because heaven would not listen, Will was keeping himself upright. At times his shoulders did feel a little weak and he had to constantly catch himself before his knees fully gave way but he remained firm and tall for his mother. For Naomi too. If he let his mind come back here, to the present where his sister was being put into the ground forever, he was sure he would completely come undone.

A part of William wished his father was here, though. He couldn't help but picture his mother tearing away into his chest, muffling her anguish into a crisp dress shirt and tie. But he wasn't here and that would never happen. Ms Morgan would never allow him to even set foot in their home much less here. She would probably take her half-empty bottle of Chardonnay that she has recently been clutching to more often and throw it at his head. Or maybe smash it against their perfectly furnished dining table and press the sharpened glass against his throat.

William bent his ankles back and forth.

They hadn't heard much from Norman Morgan at all since, really. Since that day, the Riverside Police Department caught him and refused to let him go. It was an end to their 'Kidnapped girl' story they had been running for the past few weeks. Only, for Norman Morgan and everyone here at the funeral, Ms Morgan, Mr Carson, The Riverside Dance Academy, Ben, Aspen and Will, it was more than just a story. It was their life. But notwithstanding, it was still, irrefutably, the end.

Will spent the entire funeral biting back unremitting tears, sucking in air through his nostrils to keep them at bay. But the moment the pastor backed away and they began throwing dirt on his sister, he didn't stand a chance. William grabbed his mother's shoulder as she kneeled next to him and squeezed as tightly as he could. Naomi Morgan was dead. And despite her body being right here, close enough to touch, she could not hear him or see him or tell him she would come back. She never would be able to ever again.

It was cruel.

And by the time they had laid everything over Naomi Morgan's body, William was left with the simple fact that his sister would never come back. He would live the rest of his life without his sister and the Morgan home was now a place for himself and his mother to cry and drag their feet along the wooden floor. This was life after Naomi Morgan.

The Riverside sun dived for the horizon, setting the sky a light lilac as it went behind the mausoleum. But it wasn't the only thing hiding behind the building. William wiped his eyes to ensure the shadows he saw lurking belonged to who he thought they did. Taking a deep breath, he walked over. It was weak and dizzily at first, until he remembered how to move his legs properly and keep his back straight. When William turned the corner and saw them, he gave himself the first word.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

The Tiger exhaled, pushing his back off the wall of the mausoleum and coming up to the younger boy. "Paying respects."

William was searching for the words but, everything he was feeling was beyond language. The Guise, the people who stood before him right now, were the last people to see his sister alive and he couldn't help but think that somehow that made them responsible. That, maybe if they hadn't seen her, she would still be here. But it also made him relieved because he could ask them questions, too. Was she pain? How did she look? Did you tell her everything would be okay or did you tell her the truth? That she would die on that sidewalk, not far from her best friend, not far from The Fox Performing Arts Center, not far from home.

"We're so sorry," the Bunny said. She was sitting in the dirt, her legs crossed as the Monkey rested his head in her lap. The Monkey couldn't have been much older than William yet he sensed that his grief was perhaps the most devastating. He was another black hole similarly to his mother.

William sucked in enough air to make his chest embolden. "Shouldn't you be out of town or something? Isn't there a bounty on your head?"

"Bounty or not. This is something we could never miss," the Tiger told him. "We owe her this much."

The Fox was looking off into the distance but it was clear she was listening because she said, "She was our friend. She is our friend."

More silence.

The Bull, who was standing a distance away, finally stepped forward. "And we wanted to give you this." He reached into the bag on his back and gave William the Lioness mask in it. "She picked it out herself, you know."

The thing was scratched and bruised, it's elastic band browning with dirt and it's face bent in on some edges. It was damaged, but it was also his sister.

"Thank you," was all he could manage. Staring deep into it, Will couldn't help but think of the times where he wished he could join the Guise with his sister. Be a part of a movement. Be a part of something meaningful. Have purpose. Even now, he still had a little of the urge prodding him to take a bicycle and ride off. But William Morgan had recently gained his own purpose. Now, he needed to stay with his mother and protect her. They only had each other now and that was not something either of them could risk losing. The screams echoing in the background would remind him of that much.

William wiped the tear that escaped from the bridge of his nose and watched The Guise take up their bikes one by one, each of them mounting it and his mouth suddenly blurted the only question that he thought mattered, "Do you think she's okay?" he worked his jaw and ironed out his voice in his throat before speaking again, "The moment she died, do you think she was okay with it all?"

The herd of them atop their bicycles didn't respond at first. The question sat between them all and even the rustling trees and his wailing mother paused for a moment to hear the answer. The sun finally dipped under the horizon. The Tiger took off his mask and revealed his face. The rest of The Guise followed suit.

Glancing at her gravestone, Saint told him honestly, "I hope so. Since the very moment I met Naomi all she wanted was peace. And she deserves it. So, if she couldn't find it here then maybe it's waiting for here over there. But I know that as long as she finds her peace, she'll be okay." Saint exhaled shakily and didn't allow another question, instead, he snapped his mask back on and rode away, his pack following him into the empty street.

Will looked back at the lioness mask in his hands and gripped it a little harder. Right there, he promised himself that he would bring peace to his mother, to his home and to everyone and everywhere else he went. There would be no more disasters around him. Destruction was too high a price to pay. And if he has to be the eye of the storm, tranquillity and hope surrounded by pain and torment, then he would pull everyone around him into himself if it was the last thing he did. Like a big, warm ball of light. Like a sun.

Thank you for purchasing and reading WICKED, WILD, WONDERFUL! If you can take the time to provide some feedback on the story using this form, it would be much appreciated.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

The end.

Before I get all sappy, this week's dedication goes to starryreveries and everyone reading this chapter right now. I'd just like to say thank you for trusting me to tell this story in its entirety with honesty and passion. I love you guys.

Wicked, Wild, Wonderful means so much to me. I vividly remember feeling as if not many people would end up reading it and that I wasn't going to gain any real success. And, if I'm honest, I was okay with that. I guess like Naomi I had accepted that maybe things would not turn around for me and I could either continue and suffer or give up. But like Will, I learned to become my own ball of light and bring myself content and happiness. I think that's what's pulled everyone into this book, the honesty of it all.

Thank you to my readers, every single one even if you don't have the coins to finish or is still catching up or is living through the emotion in real-time with me right now, thank you. Thank you to Wattpad for providing me with an avenue to tell a story that means so much to me and connecting me with thousands of people in a meaningful way. And lastly, thank you to God who continues to answer my prayers and strengthening me even when I feel like giving up.

I love you all. Thank you.

P.S. I have a new book out right now called Godspeed, so head over to my profile to check it out!