fourteen

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 Princess "Sy" Jones

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Princess "Sy" Jones


...


The rest of the week I spent locked up in my hotel room ordering room service— that was until sunday, Bert's funeral.

It was being held at the only church in our city, one I haven't been to since what happened when I was a little kid.

I walked inside being greeted by the funeral service workers but I was too emotional to reply.

"Princess, I'm so glad you could make it." Melissa, his daughter, embraced me into a hug.

"I wouldn't miss it." I muttered. "And i'm so sorry for your loss, a lot of people loved your dad including me. New York isn't the same without him."

Melissa nodded her head and squeezed my hand before finding her seat in the front row. I sat in the second beside Maya and my mother.

Maya had her hair in some mini twists, I loved that my mom was taking more time to take care of her hair.

A minute before the memorial was starting Kilyier walked inside of the building, sitting in the back.

People whispered... he had been ghost for so long people thought he was dead. I just hated how much they judged him.

Even though he was a total dick to me these day my heart was too big to let him be alone. I sat up from my seat, taking another by him.

He glanced at me but didn't say anything. Somehow I still knew that he was grateful he wasn't alone.

"Today we're gonna be celebrating the life of Robert Stanley, father, son, mentor and most know for making the juiciest wings in all of New York."

Laughter filled the church yet tears filled my eyes, he was the only father I ever knew. I inspired to be as great of a person as me.

Kilyier saw me wipe my wet eyes, handing me a tissue out of the box. I smiled softly at him and wiped my tears away.

"Before we have a presentation of Robert we ask if anyone would like to share some memories."

Melissa was too sad to speak, crying her eyes out and her mother was comforting. No one else had the guts to sit up.

So I did.

All eyes followed me as I walked up to the front of the room, grabbing the microphone. "I—"

I cut myself off with a cry; my hands shaking against the handle. My heart was pounding fast and eyes were stinging.

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