Death, Hate, Love

The Death Part

I look in my mirror to find yet my ugly face. I am seventeen years old. Here I am, Tracey Fulton, getting ready for a funeral. My mother's funeral to be exact. I tear up at the thought of my mother dead. She had  appendix cancer for two years, then she went into a quick remission for six months. All of a sudden it came back in tons. First she lost her hair from the chemo she was taking. Then she lost her life.

I walked towards my father, Julian Fulton, his face was blotchy from crying. I had never seen my father cry. He was so tough. His also black hair was slicked back from gel. He was tall, unlike me. He was strong but not ripped like a body builder. He was forty years old but he looked so young. He was chief firefighter for the little town of Goldvalley. It wasn't even on the map. I looked at my younger brother, John. He was eight years old. All he understood that his mom had gotten very sick and had to leave. It made me sad that my mom would never see him go to prom or watch him fall in love. She'd never see him graduate. Yet, she'd never see me graduate either. I didn't care about me. I hugged John. He started to cry. I let him cry on my shoulder because I know he'd do the same for me. I didn't care that he was getting tears and snot on my black dress.

When we got to the funeral home all of my mother's family and friends were here. I barely knew most of them. But, thats always how it is. My best friend Kathy Buether was here. I went over to her and we cried in each others arms. When they lower my mom's casket into the ground I think how I will never hear my mother's sweet voice and see her warm smile ever again.