Fic: Lonely (Broderick Bode)
Title: Lonely
Rating: Any Age
Character: Broderick Bode, Alfred (OC)
Summary: Such is the life of an Unspeakable
Word Count: 465
Day 5 31_october_days
The grave rests beneath a snow covered willow tree. Thawing charms had to be used before the digging could begin because the ice was so thick here on the small hill. The grave is fresh, the dirt not yet covered by falling snowflakes. There is a small marker that simply reads ‘Broderick Bode’ with two dates beneath his name. Alfred has been a grave digger since he was fourteen. It’s a good job for a squib and pays better than most people would expect.
In the last forty years, he’s buried hundreds of people and is proud to be able to say that he can remember every name. He’s never been what people would call bright, but he’s got a talent for names and inscriptions. ‘Beloved wife and mother’ and ‘Rest in peace’ are the most common. It’s the ones that don’t have anything that he tries to never forget, though. There are usually only three reasons why someone is buried in his cemetery with such a simple stone, after all. The person has no family and died alone is most common, and there’s those who were criminals and died in Azkaban or under circumstances where a family might not be so supportive even in death. Then there are the ones like this Bode bloke.
Ministry officials arranging everything, no family to protest the simple pine box that Alfred knows won’t last that long beneath the soil before cracking, a rush assignment that brings him out of his bed in the middle of the night more often than not, and an ordinary looking deceased that would never really stand out in a crowd or be noticed. This one died on Christmas Eve. When everyone was celebrating the holidays with their families and loved ones, this man died alone. He doesn’t know anything about Bode, of course, but he’s been around long enough to know how it goes.
Alone and probably scared, an unnatural death of some kind most likely, having to see the face of his killer and know he wouldn’t live to see Christmas day, maybe even trying to fight but still dying in the end. It’s a terrible death, he thinks as he pats the top of the grave with his shovel. Bode could be a hero, could have risked his life many times to save people or done daring deeds that filled his life with adventure, could have deserved more than an early morning burial the day after Christmas with only a stranger in attendance. Alfred stands at the grave and repeats a couple of prayers that Grandmother taught him when he was a wee lad before he walks away.
It’s a sad thing, he thinks, being alone in life as well as death, but such is the life of an Unspeakable.
End
Rating: Any Age
Character: Broderick Bode, Alfred (OC)
Summary: Such is the life of an Unspeakable
Word Count: 465
Day 5 31_october_days
The grave rests beneath a snow covered willow tree. Thawing charms had to be used before the digging could begin because the ice was so thick here on the small hill. The grave is fresh, the dirt not yet covered by falling snowflakes. There is a small marker that simply reads ‘Broderick Bode’ with two dates beneath his name. Alfred has been a grave digger since he was fourteen. It’s a good job for a squib and pays better than most people would expect.
In the last forty years, he’s buried hundreds of people and is proud to be able to say that he can remember every name. He’s never been what people would call bright, but he’s got a talent for names and inscriptions. ‘Beloved wife and mother’ and ‘Rest in peace’ are the most common. It’s the ones that don’t have anything that he tries to never forget, though. There are usually only three reasons why someone is buried in his cemetery with such a simple stone, after all. The person has no family and died alone is most common, and there’s those who were criminals and died in Azkaban or under circumstances where a family might not be so supportive even in death. Then there are the ones like this Bode bloke.
Ministry officials arranging everything, no family to protest the simple pine box that Alfred knows won’t last that long beneath the soil before cracking, a rush assignment that brings him out of his bed in the middle of the night more often than not, and an ordinary looking deceased that would never really stand out in a crowd or be noticed. This one died on Christmas Eve. When everyone was celebrating the holidays with their families and loved ones, this man died alone. He doesn’t know anything about Bode, of course, but he’s been around long enough to know how it goes.
Alone and probably scared, an unnatural death of some kind most likely, having to see the face of his killer and know he wouldn’t live to see Christmas day, maybe even trying to fight but still dying in the end. It’s a terrible death, he thinks as he pats the top of the grave with his shovel. Bode could be a hero, could have risked his life many times to save people or done daring deeds that filled his life with adventure, could have deserved more than an early morning burial the day after Christmas with only a stranger in attendance. Alfred stands at the grave and repeats a couple of prayers that Grandmother taught him when he was a wee lad before he walks away.
It’s a sad thing, he thinks, being alone in life as well as death, but such is the life of an Unspeakable.
End