| Death is inevitable, or so mother told me, it even took my father and would come after whatever I had left. Do we accept death? "Only until it consumes us," my mother would reply. I was six when they told me this. "Your father was a good man," a friend of the family choked out, looking down to me, then to my mother. "You take care of yourself and his child." My mother's black veil hid her emotions well. "Of course," she answered tightly taking my hand and pulling me towards a chair in a small corner. "Mother?" I asked. "Hush now, we're at your father's funeral." She let go and mingled her way through the crowd as I took up a chair in a small corner and watched the crowd of obscure almost faceless people. My black garments snagging in the plush chair. The crowd started to come over to me and try to console me, even though no I shed no tear. Aunts, Uncles, and friends of the family were coming from all sides, enclosing me in thier pitiful embraces. I took thier embraces in time, but my main purpose was still for my mother to come and get me. "You should be crying honey," Aunt Elena said, kneeling at my side. I was about to answer when I heard a gun shot and a lot of screaming and running, even Aunt Elena left. I didn't move, I still waited for her in my corner. Watching. Waiting, making sense of thier fleeing until the last one left the glass doors leading to the sun. The place was quiet, the peaceful type my mother told me Heaven should be. When everybody left there were red spots and a pool contrasting the white carpet, my mother's black veil hid her emotions well. Yes, death will always be a mystery, I think walking along a stark white hallway, brightly lit. Two men walking alongside of me. The wall seemingly splattered in red as I was led into my room and locked in. I sat in a lone chair, waiting for my mother, the walls now bleeding from the inside, yes death is surely a mysterious thing. |
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Black and WhiteDeath is inevitable, or so mother told me, it even took my father and would come after whatever I had left. Do we accept death? "Only until it consumes us," my mother would reply. I was six when they told me this. "Your father was a good man," a friend of the family choked out, looking down to me, then to my mother. "You take care of yourself and his child."Black and White
My mother's black veil hid her emotions well. "Of course," she answered tightly taking my hand and pulling me towards a chair in a small corner.
"Mother?" I asked. "Be Quiet, we're at your father's funeral." She let go and mingled her way through the crowd as I t
by ~Bella-Rose22
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