Morgan Ann Bennett never lived life for herself. She always put her older sister, Callie, first.
Loving fast and loose, Morgan always worried about her sister.
Finally, though, Callie settled down. Except months later, when she told her boyfriend o...
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Morgan Ann Bennett
"—Maybe there's a God above; but, all I've ever learned from love was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you? And it's not a cry, that you hear at night, it's not somebody, who's seen the light. It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah..."
I tuned back into the service after having had my gaze lost on the stained glass windows for quite some time that it escaped me.
My mind was blank. There were no thoughts, no emotion, no reaction.
"Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah," the singer performed the last bit of the Jeff Buckley song. I used to like hearing it in the movie Shrek - the rendition I preferred. I learned every word and would even sing it around the house at random times for years.
I never want to hear it again. That word doesn't even sound right anymore.
"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not be afraid," Jasmine's pastor, Reverend Clarke, spoke.
I laughed. Everyone around looked at me.
I kept my head down and sniffled.
"This is such bullshit," I mumbled.
"Morgan..." Chris whispered, squeezing my hand to get me to be quiet. Be respectful.
Callie didn't even belong to a church, neither of us really believed in religion. So it was bullshit that this conman of a "preacher" got up there and "preached" about how good of a person my sister was and how Quinn's life was taken far too soon. Only one of those things were true.
"Now, we ask that if anyone under the sound of my voice has anything on their hearts they want to get off, to come up and speak." Clarke announced, stepping away from the stand.
I looked around at all the grieving faces. Bullshit. All of this.
No one cared about Callie this much when she was alive. It even shocked me so many people came to give their condolences.
My parents sat behind me, my mother crying on her husband's shoulder. She kept a tissue in one hand, never having to worry about running out because the ushers made sure that a box of them stayed near her.
My father had on dark sunglasses which would've been okay if the sun was out but this was one, dark, gloomy November day. He had the right idea with the shades but I knew there was emotion pouring from his usually jaded eyes.
