It's raining, the sky plummeting down fat drops of misery. They run down the window face, like crawling swirls being blown away as the car drives.
I'm empty. Numbness has taken hold, my eyes ache, my chest feels hollow. My heart doesn't beat.
Everyone stands in black, heads bowed and tissues dabbing under their eyes to catch the tears that fall. I stand alone, beside the coffin that holds my life, my happiness and my soul.
My hands shake as I touch it, a ghosting breath over the rich wood, shiny and new, soon to be in the ground.
The black of my suit makes my heart race, because every time I think of black, it's like I'm standing at the funeral again.
The funeral of him.
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