Guerra

Elena stays long after everyone else has left, standing in silent vigil beneath the drizzle of rain. It’s fitting, she thinks, to have such grey, dreary weather on a sad and tragic day like this. It matches how she feels, empty and hollow, like the space next to her where he should be standing, but isn’t.

Instead, she is alone -completely and utterly so- listening to the sounds of rock and mud hit the top of the casket. With each shovel-full of earth that falls, Elena feels her heart hardening. Her eyes sting, but she doesn’t cry. She’s beyond tears, now; the only thing she can feel is a cold and venomous rage, an unrelenting sense of purpose.

She knows who is responsible for this, why this has happened.

Pablo Escobar and his fucking sicarios.

The time to grieve was over. Now was the time, more than ever, to fight, to make them pay.

And she will make them pay, if it’s the last thing she does.

Y los pongo a rezar aunque no crean en dios.

Narcos fanfic, 'cause I got some feels. Rated for violence and language.
  1. Close To the Heart
    The Prologue.