You Are Not Her ✔

9.

Her funeral was yesterday, I didn't go. I didn't feel like going and seeing her lifeless body.

I never was a fan to peek at the person I love as they lied on their death bed. The memory of their pale face will always remain in my mind forever. Thinking about them, the good times, the bad, the worse but those memories would be blurry and the last memory seeing them would appear perfectly.

However, I still don't like funerals. The cries, the last words and the goodbyes. I was not looking forward for that.

Now, I am sitting on a bridge, where she and I first met.

I was a freak in my teen years, I wanted to do nothing more but to kill myself, I didn't want to feel pain because I had enough of the pain given to me.

The bridge was abandoned for cars, a new bridge was made next to it. I sat there peeked my head out, looking down the murky waters. I still remember the time we met.

I heard footsteps but I didn't pay mind to them. They got closer and stopped behind me. I still kept my gazed at the water.

"Hey, I was passing by the bridge and saw you leaned over the bridge and thought about telling you, what you are doing is dangerous." The sweet voice said, I heard footsteps again fading. I turned to see a short girl, in a black school uniform, white shirt, black sock and school shoes.

The girl stopped at the end of the bridge turned around slightly and saw half of her face instead, I thought the world was on slow motion as I looked at her.

"Whoa." I let out, moved away a bit to see her face properly but she turned and walked away, leaving me shock by her beauty.

From that day, I came to the bridge for only one thing, to see the caring beauty.