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📍Martha Brae Cemetery
A month and a half. That's how long it had been.
It was approximately forty five days since everything happened.
A surge of nervousness bubbled within me as I stood on the red dirt, staring down at my pink pumps. The contrasting colors mirrored the mix of emotions I felt in this pivotal moment.
Danay stood on one side of me, while Ashie, my neighbor's granddaughter, occupied the other. She wasn't a replacement for Kayla; rather, she had been there for me over the past month and a half when everyone else was engrossed in their personal lives.
"Look pan dah woman deh boot," Danay mumbled, my eyes instinctively shifted to the direction she was indicating.
Suppressing laughter in this serious moment, I quickly slapped a hand over my mouth to stifle any untimely amusement.
It was neither the time nor the place for laughter, and I focused on maintaining a serious demeanor.
Cyaa me just did a bawl.
I mean fake cry.
Right.
"Look like smaddy who nuh like her send it from foreign come give her," Ashie giggled.
"Unuh a go a hell enuh." Despite the seriousness, a smile played on my lips as I shook my head, finding a brief moment of levity in the situation.
"Not me though," Ashie's laughter echoed.
She head the list.
Glancing around, I took note of our surroundings and realized that, among the crowd, the girls and I were the only ones who hadn't adhered to the dress code.
I didn't really care either way.
While everyone adhered to the blue dress code, I stood out in black and pink, Danay in black and red, and Ashie dressed entirely in black-a colorful trio amidst a sea of blue.
No limit unuh have.
I was so annoyed and wanted to go home to eat a dish of salted fruits.
The environment itself was so triggering for me and it brought back memories that I wanted to keep locked away.
Surveying the tearful faces around me, I couldn't help but shake my head; the sight was far from uplifting, and the collective sorrow painted a somber scene.
