Prologue

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Driving, that's what we had been doing for the last twenty minutes. Driving.

It was a very big day, today. We were going to be attending a very important service, one that would be very emotional, especially for the boy sitting next to me.

Grief. It was the emotion that filled our car, drowning it in thick silence, it was odd, really. Our family had never been known to stay silent for a single heartbeat.

But considering the circumstances, I think everyone would understand why we were out of character.

Father navigated the car down several narrow pathways until finally parallel parking between two cars.

We were here.

I stepped out of the car, placing my feet on the well kept grass beneath me. I looked around, immediately spotting the small crowd of people near us. That's where were headed.

I filed in behind my family, sadly smiling at people as I shook their hands and asked them how they've been, if they're okay, and commenting on the tragic loss.

Funerals were easy to navigate, but they were hard to watch.

Together, the small crowd, including us, filed into the funeral

I spotted the family, which is of course a term used for those who were closest, like the guardians and siblings. Dressed in complete black right down to the jewelry, I almost had to turn away.

Funny, I could have sworn the parents had been divorced, but there the mother was, crying into her ex-husband's chest.

His friends had joined them, also in black, of course since it was a funeral what else would they wear. They looked miserable and lost, like lost puppies, their eyes glazed in grief and the movements slow with misery and exhaustion.

My family walked towards them, our respects had to be paid of course. Hands were shaken, meaningless words were spoken.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

I had no right to say those words, although they were respectful, I didn't deserve to say them. But then again, I don't deserve to be here either.

Guilt. It pressed on my shoulders as we took our seats in the one of the many chairs that had been laid out. Meaning a few final words were going to be said. Of course they were going to be words said, it's a funeral, idiot. I thought crossly as I faced towards the front of the room.

I nervously brushed the black fabric of my clothes, acting as though I've gotten a bit of dirt or lint on myself by accident.

I shouldn't be here, but I do deserve to hear the last words of his family. I deserve all the guilt that washed over me as they cried until they were on the verge of dehydration, as they spoke of him with such sweet words, words of devotion and admiration.

I hope every past tense word cuts me like a knife, because I deserve it, this is my fault.

This is my fault.

Not many people can say that a funeral, that they were the reason the deceased had passed, actually I'm sure a multitude of people can, because there are so many people who blame themselves for death.

But this, this is different. Because I am the executioner here, I gave him his death sentence.

Why was I so ignorant? So selfish?

A man, a pastor I'm assuming by the white strip around his neck, quieted everyone's hushed voices as he spoke clearly.

"Friends, family, relatives and all who had an influence on this young boy's life. Thank you for coming today to support the family in their time of woe. However, now is not the time to celebrate, now is the time for us to send this boy on his peaceful journey to the afterlife, now that his troubled journey had reached its end."

Crying, the room was filled crying. Loud sobs that could practically rip vocal chords like a freshly sharpened knife cuts flesh. I didn't cry, it's not that I didn't want to, because I did, I really did, but I didn't let myself cry. I didn't deserve to cry at his funeral, not like everyone else.

I deserved to stay silent as everyone around me cried their eyes out because of their loss, the loss that happened because of me. I needed to hear all of the pain that I brought upon them.

I couldn't look at the body, I just couldn't bring myself to do it, although the need to was there, to be by his side for some of his body's final moments above ground, but I couldn't.

Yet I did. Because I could tell my brother couldn't handle being up there, so I rushed over to him in silence, holding him as he continued to break down in my arms, his body shaking with sobs.

Then I looked at him, I looked at the dead boy in the coffin right next to me, because I deserved it.

But I didn't deserve to hold my brother in my arms, because I caused his grief, it was me.

We were back in the chairs, this was when everyone would listen to last word speeches and his eulogy but it would be no use because they would get cut off half way.

His mom said some words.

His best friend.

My brother stayed in his seat, tears falling off his chin.

"Anyone else?" The pastor spoke, although a few people had already started to leave.

This was my chance, they need to know the truth.

My hand shot up. "I do." I spoke clearly, my voice steady as I stood up, brushed off my clothes and walked to the podium. "Everyone, please sit back down." I demanded. "You're going to want to hear this."

I pulled my shawl closer around my body, fixing the collar of my dress as I cleared my throat.

"I'm about to tell you the story about how I'm the reason we're all here."

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