Recuperation

Grief

Narrators pov 

Death is a funny thing.

It can come suddenly or you could be expecting it.

Death can be an accident or it can be caused purposely.

Death leaves a heartache that no one can heal.

There are many ways to die but most people say they would want to die in their sleep because then you aren't suffering, you don't know that you are dying, It just happens and it's peaceful.

You never get over a death but you do get through it somehow.

You cant get by it because you cannot get around death.

They say it will get better but it doesn't it just gets different.

Funerals.

The only time that people come together and mourn.

The only time that people don't argue and fight with each other, well apart from a few.

They come together and act like they love each other out of respect but they don't really want to be there, they would much rather waste their time watching the tv or doing the weekly shopping but they just push through it as i said before out of that little respect that they have and as soon as the ceremony is over they are back to hating each other.

That respectful façade disappears to be replaced by one of nonchalance.  

Everyday single day, Grief puts on a new face.  

The brown haired boy stood in front of the floor length mirror and he just stared at it, he stared at his reflection looking back at him solemnly.

His tired eyes that were outlined with dark circles from lack of sleep, his now pale complexion from his usual tan skin, his gaunt and drawn face that had always been thin but was now like his skin was just clinging to the bones of his jaw from lack of eating, his once ice blue eyes now a dark blue, dull and lifeless, there was no spark in them like they used to be, just and empty glint.

Frown lines were permanently stretched across the boys forehead and his lips were turned down, he could not remember the last time he had smiled.

He lifted up a weak hand and ran it down the length of the black suit jacket he was wearing making sure there were no creases in it, giving himself a bored look before turning away from his horrendous reflection and looked around the room he was stood in.

He looked towards the quotes on the walls and shook his head looking away from them quickly as he made his way out the room and down the stairs to where everyone was waiting for him.

Once they gathered they walked outside just as the car with the dark wood coffin was driving past.

He could do this, he thought as they stepped out and walked behind the slowly moving vehicle.  

There were a line of people walking behind different expressions on their faces that the boy paid no mind to because he felt hollow.

A small hand was placed on his back trying to comfort him and he glanced to his side to which he saw his mother but he couldn't smile, he could not lift his hand and grab hers out of appreciation, all he could do was stare blankly at her until he looked away once again.

A warm hand was then holding his, but he didn't hold it back.

He felt it squeeze his fingers tightly as they walked and he looked to that side to see his best friend there grasping the boys hand tightly as they walked glumly behind the sleek black car, he wanted to squeeze his best friends hand back but he couldn't do it and she understood that.