Post by Enzo Venturi on Jul 27, 2021 20:45:02 GMT -5
The church bells tolled at noon, and it wasn't long before the choir was singing it’s ominous tune. Rather then a spring wedding that should have brought good fortune to all in attendance, a spring funeral was placing a heavy weight on the patrons shoulders. Cursing them with dark fates that they’d face in the coming months. Unknown to them just how cruel the world to be, or how God would test them as the bodies were packed into the pews, staring at the open casket of Francisco Venturi.
Former head Banker of the Venturi Banks based in Tresteria. The family of Francisco were in the front pews, where every seat was taken. By the amount of people in attendance at the service, you could only assume how loved and respected Francisco was.
Wrong.
Those in the front pews, those that knew him the most, would tell you differently. Specifically his sons. Enzo Venturi in particular had prayed and hoped for a weight of relief to be removed from his shoulders once his father had drawn his last breath. Instead, the weight had only worsened. Taking over his fathers legacy and the bank was something Enzo knew would one day come, he just hadn’t expected it to be so soon. He didn’t expect his resentment at his father to worsen, and yet it had.
His eyes stared at the open casket. Father looked peaceful as ever, but Enzo’s stomach twisted. He could barely hear what the priest was saying, or the last of the prayers as the funeral was drawing to a close. He was in his own world, replaying his life through his head. Everything father had ever said to him. At some point his hand had reached for his wifes. Simply holding it, and at first it was meant more for her than him, and yet he held her hand like it was a life line. Something to hold onto so he could be here in the present and not thrown into despair. A hollowed emptiness had entered Enzo’s eyes, and he was whisked into the past.
He was a cruel man, but he was still his father wasn’t he? A good son would grieve, right?
The Mass soon came to a close as everyone began to stand and filter out for the burial. Enzo stood with the rest, though he was slow at first. Almost hesitant as he came back to the present, and then held his head high. Just as father would have expected of him, and moved out in single file with the others. Trying to not look as lost as he did on the inside. He was hesitant to let go of Nina Venturi ’s hand, but gave it one more squeeze before he let her go, and the spring air greeted them outside. Walking to the family plot, where they would say their last goodbyes to Fransisco Venturi, forever.
Former head Banker of the Venturi Banks based in Tresteria. The family of Francisco were in the front pews, where every seat was taken. By the amount of people in attendance at the service, you could only assume how loved and respected Francisco was.
Wrong.
Those in the front pews, those that knew him the most, would tell you differently. Specifically his sons. Enzo Venturi in particular had prayed and hoped for a weight of relief to be removed from his shoulders once his father had drawn his last breath. Instead, the weight had only worsened. Taking over his fathers legacy and the bank was something Enzo knew would one day come, he just hadn’t expected it to be so soon. He didn’t expect his resentment at his father to worsen, and yet it had.
His eyes stared at the open casket. Father looked peaceful as ever, but Enzo’s stomach twisted. He could barely hear what the priest was saying, or the last of the prayers as the funeral was drawing to a close. He was in his own world, replaying his life through his head. Everything father had ever said to him. At some point his hand had reached for his wifes. Simply holding it, and at first it was meant more for her than him, and yet he held her hand like it was a life line. Something to hold onto so he could be here in the present and not thrown into despair. A hollowed emptiness had entered Enzo’s eyes, and he was whisked into the past.
He was a cruel man, but he was still his father wasn’t he? A good son would grieve, right?
The Mass soon came to a close as everyone began to stand and filter out for the burial. Enzo stood with the rest, though he was slow at first. Almost hesitant as he came back to the present, and then held his head high. Just as father would have expected of him, and moved out in single file with the others. Trying to not look as lost as he did on the inside. He was hesitant to let go of Nina Venturi ’s hand, but gave it one more squeeze before he let her go, and the spring air greeted them outside. Walking to the family plot, where they would say their last goodbyes to Fransisco Venturi, forever.