"Samantha was a good kid. She got good grades, never did anything bad, and helped out in the community. She didn't deserve to die so young, so unaccomplished." That was rude. "I just wish I could have said goodbye one last time." She did? As far as I knew Ms. Webster barely knew Samantha, the only connection they shared was housing location. "Thank you Melissa, that was very sweet." The dead girl's mom stepped up to the casket, placing a withered hand on the surface. She had decided for it to be closed because, apparently, she "didn't want the world to see the embarrassment that was her daughter." That was harsh, even for her. Curious to see what she would say, I stayed silent and watched.
"Samantha was my only child, the love and joy in my life. Everyday she brought a smile to my face." That must be why she had so many wrinkles and not...other reasons. "I can't believe that she's really gone!" She released a fake sob at the end of her sentence, it wasn't even accompanied by a tear. "I should have paid more attention to her and seen that she wasn't alright." Oh, so she killed herself? Then why wasn't it open casket, Mrs. Holmes. One of the strangers, because none of these people actually knew Samantha, came up to the mother and whispered some words in her ear. Probably words of comfort. Right. She then lead her away with a hand placed on her back. "I'm sorry everyone, the wound is too raw. I can't do this anymore." And just like that, everyone left.
Everyone but me. I waited until the very last of the filth left before walking up to the casket. It was nice at least. But it was a facade, not one of the people at the funeral had cared about the girl, because all of them had played a part in her undoing. Very slowly, as if time had slowed, I placed a shaky hand on the wood. I opened it and I stared. Dead, lifeless eyes, my eyes, stared back.
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