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"Sparks" -Coldplay ╳
Black is a rather moody color, the undertone usually being associated with death or loss. That's exactly why it's the perfect color for funerals. It sums up the feelings of grief near perfectly.
It's closed casket, obviously.
Your eyes made their way around the large funeral home, people crowding through the hallways as you trudged through the crowd. Your gaze landed on the casket, a few people standing in front of it already.
Your legs slowly dragged across the floor until you reach the side of the large box. Joseph's picture was framed beside it, his happy smile paired with his grip onto a little golden bear in his grasp.
You find it ironic.
He loved that stuffed bear, yet he was killed by the larger version of it. It just didn't make sense. You knew he was terrified of the animatronics, but he adored the characters themselves.
Your eyes glazed over as you were trapped in your thoughts, Joseph's little body morphing out of the top of the casket, half of his face staring back at you. A small little wave came upon his tiny hands, though he disappeared as quickly as he came when a figure stood right next to you.
"It's a shame."
His voice alone made you want to sucker punch him right here, but you deemed that inappropriate. His accent seethed through his words as he spoke.
"Michael was always a terrible child, but, I never thought.. that he'd go this far."
William didn't appear to be upset. He didn't like showing his emotions. He just seemed to be lost in his own world of thoughts.
"Joseph was my golden child. Liz was always too.. hyperactive. I could never handle her. He was perfect, other than never seeming to stop crying." He muttered the last bit as his eyes scanned the casket.
You didn't have any words to give, your eyes never meeting him at all.
"You know, Joseph really liked you. It's a damn shame, isn't it?" You felt like puking as an awful smile slithered to his face.
"You're sick, you know that?" Your words came out quiet, but he could still hear you loud and clear.
"Oh, I know. I know."
You left the side of the much taller man, finding your way through the crowd to sit outside. You saw Lora sitting with Liz, the light haired girl letting every tear out.
You felt like it wasn't your place to approach them and give your condolences—eyes focusing on the silhouette little ways from the main entrance.
"How you holding up?"
"Oh, just peachy." Michael looked as if he hadn't gotten sleep in the last forty-eight hours. Which he probably-most likely hasn't. "Ah." You clicked your tongue, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Dad fucking hates me. Even more than before." He mumbled, eyes staring off into the void in his mind. "I could see that. He isn't taking it well."
"He's gonna fucking kill me." Michael shivered, his mouth twisting to a slight frown as his suit jacket flowed in the direction of the wind.
"Mikey, you'll be alright. Do you just want to stay with us for a few days? I'm sure Nicole wouldn't mind."
"I'd like that. I'm sure dad wants to get rid of me anyways." Michael scoffed, his arms crossing as he kicked a rock—sending it flying across the asphalt parking lot.
"I know it wasn't your fault, Mike. You didn't mean any of that to happen." Your voice lowered as your eyes met his. He looked like he could start crying again.
"Thank you." He whispered, fearing that if he spoke any louder, the waterworks would crash. "Of course. Been there since day one."
A small laugh left the teen's lips, recalling the first night you met. "You sold me cigarettes."
"Hey! Still, it's supporting." A smile stuck onto your face as you kicked your feet at the sidewalk.
"It's gonna be alright, Mike. I won't let anything happen to you, alright? Its like turning over to a new chapter, a new leaf."
