Mr. Misty Eyed

the end of all things

The living mourn the dead
But the dead can't hear their tears
So the living only mourn for themselves

You sit on the last pew at the back of the funeral home. People pass you and they don't speak- don't even acknowledge your presence.

You are used to it. You have been dead for three years. The living cannot interact with the dead. This you have learned the hard way.

You are waiting patiently. He should be arriving any moment now. You are sad to see him leave the land of the living, but you were getting awfully lonely without your favorite person around.

While you wait, you watch Destiny, your childhood best friend. She sits with another girl who is doing her best to comfort the distraught Destiny beside her.

Your heart yearns to be the one comforting her, but you are so proud Destiny managed to make a friend that could be there for her. A friend with experience.

Suddenly a presence sits beside you. You turn to look at the boy with the bullet through his temple. "I could have waited longer to see you. You really shouldn't have done that."

"Maybe you could have waited, but I couldn't. Death seemed much more appealing than living, and I was right." He says quietly.

You rub the bullet wound that runs through your once-beating heart. "But Death is bittersweet. Your heart aches for those that still breathe."

Both pairs of eyes turn towards the small mourning woman in the front row.

"She has nobody now." You say sadly as you look upon your aging mother.

The boy pulls you into his shoulder and you relax into the familiar feeling. "Destiny will take care of her. She's good at that."

You shift your eyes back at the  girl with beautiful brown eyes reddened with grief. "She really loved us, didn't she?"

The boy sighs heavily. "With her whole heart."

"You think she'll be okay without us?"

"Maybe not now, but one day, yes."

With that, you stand up, reach your hand out, and pull the boy up beside you. "Come on, Brother, it's time to go."