There were easily already close to a hundred people at Schaefer’s funeral home when local priest, the reverend Jacobs finally showed up at the seven o’clock service. He stopped by the statue of St. Paul to strengthen his composure for what he was about to face. A crowd like this was to be expected for this particular evening. Anytime someone was laid out here that was a resident of the neighborhood-the turnout of people was always rather large. But, tonight the amount of people who showed up was epic. The reason being for this was that lying in the casket at tonight’s service was fourteen year old, Samuel Carver. Four days previous, Samuel was walking home from one of favorite after school activities. A car sped by spraying a nearby crowd of boys with bullets. Two of them hit Samuel, killing him instantly. One slug went straight through his neck, severing his internal jugular. The second shot went straight through a case that Samuel was holding under his arm.
Reverend Jacobs made his way through the crowd, stopping along the way among various mourners to give comfort. Samuel had a big family and he was very liked among the faculty at his school. He was an honor student who many varied interests. He worked hard at everything he took on and had a smile that warmed up any room. He had dreams of someday piloting a shuttle into space. A pointless death of a bright kid who just happened to be walking through some random violence at the worst possible time. The dreams of Samuel being an astronaut grounded on a blood soaked sidewalk.
The casket was open. Reverend Jacobs finally got up next to Samuel to say final prayers and a goodbye. He felt his eyes begin to tear up as he looked inside.
Laying next to Samuel, was another thing that he had decided to take on to learn and he immediately fallen in love with. It had been the one thing that was in that case on that tragic day. A violin that he had played with the utmost passion. When other boys were out cheapening their lives, Samuel was home practicing until every note of any song was mastered. Reverend Jacob’s Sunday services often had Samuel play with the accompanying organist to a packed church. The violin now laid there, its front surface now gaping with a splintered opening. A freshly made bullet hole was now a part of its body, ending its sound and the innocent musician behind it.
This story was inspired by the Three Things Challenge prompts: priest, violin, statue.
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