It was a very solemn day, but I wasn't sure why. My whole family looked miserable. The sky seemed to have been drained of all color. I had been forced into an itchy purple dress, and pinchy black shoes. I felt like crying.
As we stepped up on a platform, I saw my six year-old cousin laying in a coffin. My little five year-old brain couldn't comprehend it.
"Mommy?" I whispered.
"Shhhh." she said.
I pouted, and because everyone else did I went up and touched my cousin's hand. It was cold. Not the cold of snow or the cold of the freezer, but a new, entirely different cold. It was only later that I knew it was the cold of death.
Suddenly, I understood that my cousin was gone. She wasn't coming back, and I cried.
Becca! That's so depressing. You would tottaly write something like this. Is this a true story? I hope not.
ReplyDeleteJess