robein (robein) wrote in freeformwriters,

Rivulets of water slowly ran down my face, leaving a moist trail that stopped by my quivering lips. Eyelashes, damp with tears slowly opened, black smears of mascara coated the bottom of my eyes as I struggled to control myself. The bitter chill wrapped around me like a cocoon, threatening to tear the bouquet of flowers away that was held in my limp hand. I stifled a scream that clawed its way up my throat as I laid my eyes upon the mass of people who wore the traditional clothes of mourning. Faces blurred together until I couldn't distinguish the pitied looks that were thrown my way.



Short locks of ebony hair that was once elaborately curled into loose ringlets, soon became lank and heavy, losing its lustre and shine as the day wore on. My footsteps seemed heavy as I forced myself to walk towards the open casket which held my beloved mother, Elaine, whom appeared at peace as she lay on the fine inlaying of her coffin. Ruby red lips gleamed up at me as I gazed at her pale porcelain skin, longing to run my fingers through her rich and soft auburn hair that held bold copper streaks. I pressed my quivering hand onto the cool glass, tracing an imaginary line down my mother’s cheek, before stopping at her closed eyelids, hiding her beautiful green irises, which I was grateful to inherit. A single, solitary tear fell on the clear glass, marring the gleaming surface.


The fresh smell of roses, lilies, and orchards, among other beautifully arranged flowers coated the air with a sweetly cloying scent. Sobs shook my body as I struggled to control the tears that were threatening to overtake me, and I welcomed the warmth and company of my friend, Freddie, who draped his arm across my bare shoulders. My mother’s lace dress was adorned with her favourite flowers, peonies, adding colour to her pale complexion. Her pearl necklace gave off a luminescent gleam as the sun shone upon it, highlighting her elegant neck. I lifted my left hand, and with my eyes closed, I threw the bouquet onto the growing pile of flowers that lay by the casket, praying that this was all a dream.


Freddie lightly squeezed my shoulders and I buried my head into his suit clad arm, seeking comfort, wishing for this depressing day to end. I desperately tried to block off memories of when my mother was still alive, smiling as she held and talked to me. Gentle fingers ran down my messy hair, smoothing the knots and kinks as I struggled to control my shallow breathing. Turning my head, I slipped out of Freddie’s grasp and gave him a watery smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. He held out his handkerchief and wiped my face, removing the black residue that surrounded my eyes.


“I look like a mess right now, don’t I?” My raspy voice croaked out, tired from all of the crying that I’ve been doing these past few days. Freddie looked at me, and gave a small grin.



“No, your grudge eyes are very attractive,” he teased, winking at me. I gave a light chuckle and slapped his arm, appreciating his obvious attempt to lighten the gloomy mood. He pretended to wince as he touched the area in which I had slapped him. I just shook my head, wiping my nose with a Kleenex that I had grabbed before coming. Putting distance between the casket and me, I hesitantly walked over towards my father who had grown withdrawn and sullen with the passing of my mother. He looked tired, the black suit enhancing the ashen pallor of his skin as he looked around, his sunken in eyes locked onto mine, and he recoiled. My steps toward him halted, and I froze in my tracks, surprised and hurt as he turned away from me. It felt as if a tiny part of my heart had chipped away. I didn’t just lose my mother; I had also lost my father.



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