Rain delicately fell from the dark greying clouds, softly mimicking the tears that fell from the ducts of the eyes of mourning family and friends. Thunder rumbled through the cemetery as the coffins were slowly and ceremoniously lowered into the ground. Seven white marble coffins, each of which held an individual victim of a brutal crime. No one spoke, but there were no need for words. It was obvious what each person was thinking: Why? These innocent young teenagers did no wrong. The only thing that a couple of them where guilty of was handing in homework late. No eye contact was necessary. Nor was it wanted.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the ceremony is now over."

The vicar of the local church couldn't hide his sorrow, no matter how much he tried. He looked down into each of the pits in which lay one coffin. Looking into these pits was like looking into the depths of despair, into the melancholia that surrounded them. Slowly, Soil was tipped into each of the pits, slowly concealing the coffins until they were completely masked by at least 4 feet of moist, fresh soil. Slowly, the reception left, in small groups, murmuring their goodbyes. Finally the only people left were the parents of one of the deceased. The mother had deep red hair that flowed down to her elbows, covering half of her face as she wept quietly. She was holding hands with her husband and father of their dead child. He had a sharp yet kind face, with deep brown eyes and strong cheek bones. Tears carved paths on his face as he looked at the gravestone of his daughter.

"Anything you want to say, Amber?" He croaked, still transfixed to the words that were chiselled into the stone.

"Goodbye, my darling daughter. May you sleep peacefully for all eternity." She trembled, then broke down into a fresh wave of tears.

"I think it's time to head homeā€¦" He said, wrapping an arm around the shaking shoulders of his wife, and walked her away from the grave without looking back, until when they reached the cemetery exit. He turned around and said softly to the sky,

"Goodbye, my little Blackbird. Rest in peace."

But she wasn't going to rest in peace. She couldn't. Not yet anyway. She hadn't finished living. She wasn't ready to die. None of them were. The sadness was too great.

A crow landed softly on the branch of a weeping willow that covered the graves. It cawed twice, before taking off and landing on the gravestone of the nearest victim, who happened to be the daughter of the parents that had just left. It looked down at the name that stood out so boldly amongst the rest:

"Rest In Peace

Lita Jackdaw-

"This world never stops", you said
This wonder never leaves
The time will never come to say, "Goodbye"
"This tide never turns", you said
This night never falls again
These flowers will never die"