DYLAN'S POV
Attending the cremation ceremony for Ciera proved to be the most painful event of my life. I knew without any doubt that nothing had ever broken my heart to that extent. She was gone. Just like that; my sister was gone. The saddest part was that my mother failed to attend the funeral. By that time; she could be declared mentally disturbed. She was harming herself by grabbing any object in the vicinity, and harming herself. She used anything and everything in sight; thus leading to her being tied and sometimes sedated. Her situation had seriously gone out of hand.
Each time she was awake, mother would start talking about a man in a wheelchair, or a young man making phone calls at night. She kept repeating that she donated the fifty wheelchairs because of the man; and she said Ciera was not supposed to die. None of us had yet managed to make sense out of what she said; but every member of the family was able to tell that there was an issue; a big, serious issue. The best physicians were attending to her; and although we did our best to wait for her recovery before the cremation; we ended up having to go ahead without her. We were all counting on Israel to wake up and narrate the whole story. He had taken two bullets and was in hospital; heavily guarded.
The Pastor who was leading at the ceremony, who happened to be the very same pastor who officiated at our marriage, spoke thus:
"Just recently we gathered to celebrate the joining in holy matrimony of the junior de Milos. Yet today we gather for a completely opposite event. We gather here to bury our loved one; Ciera de Milo Octavia. She was unfortunately caught by a bullet when a robber found his way into doctor Dylan's house.
We have many questions. We ask ourselves a lot of questions. We ask God why? Yet there seems to be no answer at all.
In the book of Ecclesiastes, the third chapter states as such:
To everything there is a season. A time for every purpose under heaven. A time to be born and a time to die. A time to plant and a time to harvest. A time to kill and a time to heal. A time to tear down and a time to rebuild. A time to cry and a time to laugh. A time to grieve and a time to dance…. (King James Version – Holy Bible and the History of Redemption (2001), Korea, Seoul, Everlasting Gospel Publishing. www.egpa.net)
Today the Lord has seen it fit for us to gather here and bid our daughter farewell. She was a daughter, a sister, a friend, a wife, an employer…she was many things to different people, Many people have been robbed; yet we have no power over death. As painful as it may be, we just have to bid her farewell, and allow her soul to rest.
Ciera de Milo Octavia; there was a day when the world greeted you; when you were but a new born baby. And today, you bid farewell to that same world, because to everything; there is a season and a time."
The pastor said a few more things, and then the family was given time to speak. KJ's parents were visibly broken. His father was the one who mourned, asking God why their new daughter in law had to be snatched away from them so soon. The speech was too painful to listen to.
As a family, we had agreed that my dad was going to say something. I looked at my dad and saw him facing down, crying. I was just two chairs away from him, because Arianna was the one sitting closest to him. I exchanged seats with Arianna, and whispered to my father,
"Dad, do you think you can do this?"
"Son, I cannot do this." He wept.
I felt helpless; for there was nothing I could have done to help my father. Except for hugging him, I failed to do or say anything else. My father; my dear father. He was broken.
In the end it was me who stood up to speak.
"I don't know how to begin this speech…a speech of bidding farewell to my sister, who I loved so dearly, can never be an easy speech. Ciera, who was my older sister, left us unexpectedly; and sadly, she was expecting her first child.
We shall never know that niece of nephew; we do not even know whether it was going to be a little niece or a little nephew…that child, we shall never know.
Ciera, we feel robbed. I believe in my heart that my sister deserved to live longer than this. She was…."
I had hardly started to say my next word when Arianna stood up from her chair; her hands in her head, and she wailed ever so pitifully.
"Did it have to be this soon, Ciera? Did it really have to be this soon? No…someone please tell me we're all dreaming! It cannot be happening!"
My poor sister cried so much, and Pete stood up to hold his wife. I was unable to continue talking, seeing my own sister breaking down in such a way. I went to her and tried to calm her down.
"Arianna, Arianna listen, try to be strong."
"How can I be strong? She is gone, Dylan. You don't get it, do you? She is gone, and she's never coming back! She is gone for good! My sister; my only sister!"
Various other people, including mine and Pete's dad, stood up and took Arianna outside. They needed to help her calm down. We had to put everything on hold, because Arianna was breaking down. She needed to be helped, and that was what we did.
The body viewing was the most painful part. To look at her, lying there, was painful. Her face looked perfectly normal, as if she was just asleep. There was no swelling or anything different. It looked as if she could just open her eyes and yawn. Like someone coming from a deep sleep.
KJ failed to control himself during the body viewing. He surely would have wished to just die as well; to die with her, for he stated that he found no reason to live.
When everything was done and we finally left the place, we went to the Clear Opal manor. Everyone was sad, but we had to do our best to help each other deal with the situation. While we were sitting, dad's phone rang, and someone informed him that Israel was gone. His death came as bad news to us as a family; for we really wanted him to live. We had too many questions for him. We needed answers from him, yet he went away with them all.
"I need to see for myself that he is really dead. I must personally certify his death." My father said.
The three of us; dad, Pete and myself decided to go to the hospital. Carl drove us there.
I also needed to see the man. Israel Bassard. Eden Salatto. Fletcher Latto. Who knew how many more pseudonyms the man had? I wanted to see for myself that he was dead; for the man had caused more than enough havoc.
He lay motionless on the bed; surely he was dead. I looked at him for a long time, and wondered what could have been on his mind before he died. How many people had suffered because of him? How many had died because of him? And how many lives had he personally ended?
I could not help but wonder; if he had managed to escape, was he going to continue with his life of murdering people? Was there any hope of repentance, when it came to Israel? We left the hospital late, going back to Clear Opal. We had all agreed to spend the night there, for the sake of our dad. If he ever needed us; it was then.
Police had found car keys in Israel's pocket, and when later on a car was reported to be parked at a certain spot for days, detective Harris visited the spot. Pete and I went along with him. It was a deep green Peugeot 3008 with no registration numbers.
A search team opened the car to find stacks and stacks of cash inside it. The officer pulled out a bag, and yet another, and another. There were all different kinds of guns in the car too.
There was yet another interesting bag; it held hyper realistic silicone masks. The detectives took everything so that they could go and make further investigations.
The man Israel was really well organised in his game; for he left nothing at all in that car which could incriminate him in any way; as in links to his gang members, or any leads to where he stayed. There was no piece of paper, no receipt from a shop...nothing at all. The car was clean. The man knew how to play his cards well.
His phone did not provide much. There was hardly anything in it, not even a message or a record of a phone call. That man was bad news. The detectives took the phone with them. In trying to retrieve some information out of it; they discovered that Israel had already taken care of that. He had set his phone such that, once they started to try and retrieve information from it, the SD card self-destructed. The best people failed to retrieve any information, unfortunately.
In one of the bags with money; they found eleven different passports and other travelling documents. All of them had a picture of him, and he used all sorts of names…Israel Bassard…Eden Salatto…Fletcher Latto…Jillian McGallara…Dave Pinkeris….