The Brave and Beautiful

I Am Become Death

236's POV

Oh PLAYMATE, come out and play with me

And bring your dollies three.

Climb up my apple tree,

Look down my rain barrel

Slide down my cellar door

And we'll be jolly friends forever more.

It was a rainy day, She couldn't come out to play,

With tearful eyes and tender sighs

I could hear her say:

I'm sorry Playmate, I cannot play with you

My dollies have the flu,

Boo-hoo hoo hoo hoo hoo.

Can't climb your rain barrel,

Can't slide your cellar door

But we'll be jolly friends forever more

I punched the radio off, and took the C.D out. Oh, how I love children tunes. Oh, how I love days like today. A storm was brewing. A storm was brewing on the glorious death day. Got to love death. The thought of it all. A smile crept up my face. She deserved it. I grabbed my stuff, and I thought to myself.

It's time to go play with my playmates. Four of them. It's going to be the best playdate ever. Oh, I certainly hope they brought their dollies.

***

Izzy's POV

The rain settled on the pavement, making that pleasant smell of wet cement surround me. The damp weather seemed right for today. If the sun was shining, no one would care. If the sun was shining, it would seem wrong. It would seem as though the sun was trying to make the day merry, when it easily couldn't have been. Never in a million years will I look back on this day, and smile. Today is not a day for smiling.

Thunder roared as I eyed the church in the distance. I looked at my beautiful black gown. My mother had bought it for me. I was now walking beside her, and my father. My mother took my hand in hers, and I told myself in my head, that no matter what, I wouldn't cry. I wouldn't allow a single drop of water to exit my eyes, because in the moment It did, it would never stop. As I arrived at the chapel, I saw David's family entering. I wonder if Hope and Adam were in there too, with their parents. The entire class was in there as well. Were they crying? I certainly hope not. If someone else started, it might spread to me.

Before entering the church, I stopped. Outside the doors was a large, beautiful picture of Cate. She was sitting in a tree, and looked about 12 years old. The summer sun was shining on her pale face. Her blue eyes stood out, but if you looked at them to long, you felt guilty, like if you kept looking at them, you weren't sharing them with the other guests. My mother squeezed my hand, and I looked up at her.

"Are you ready to go in?" She said softly. I knew my mother would certainly cry. I made another silent promise not to look at her during the entire thing. I nod, as I enter Cate's funeral.