I don't like it. I don't like this funeral. I don't like the people that came to the funeral. I don't like the people that even pretend to care about Tristian.
People that came to the funeral always pretend to sob and cry, and when they see me sitting on this cold, and dull wooden floor, they would always say 'I'm so sorry, Catherine dear.' or 'It was all so sudden, Catherine dear.' Those words that comfort me, I hate them.
I don't even recognise them. They didn't even met with Tristian before. Tristian doesn't even know they exist!
Their weeping, sobbing and their tears. I know they are fake. Just because we are a family, you have to come here and pretend to care. I know that they hate me, because they think I'm sick or I have some pathetic mental illness. They always try to scare me that in my case, it will worsen if I keep acting up like this. I know my syndrome, Asperger's Syndrome, right? I'm smarter than other kids, you can't fool me. You need to remember that.
The only few things I care about is my dad, Tristian and the objects that I like. I don't like my mum, she left me, Tristian and dad. When she died, I could still remember the time when I cried unconditionally, Tristian would always say 'It's alright, it was for the best anyways. I'm sure she will be in heaven, she will be watching over all of us,' and pat my head twice and gives me a really big hug fill with warmth.
I don't even remember his face, all I can remember is our "promise".
(Photo from Dengeki Daisy, Teru's Big Brother. I TAKE NO CREDITS.)
