I saw it. I saw all. I remembered that I survived that car crash. I was in the back seat, closing my eyes on the impact. One minute we were talking about what we want for dinner, the next I see blood on the windshield and then darkness.
I hear raindrops. It's silently attacking me like I did something wrong. It's my fault. I just had to ask them for something insignificant, and that cost me my parents' lives.
I look down on both my parents' coffins. Their faces are pale, but peaceful. The last time I saw them this peaceful, was when I stood up to go to the washroom in the middle of the night. I saw my mom sleeping on the couch and my dad sleeping on the bed. Come to think of it, I haven't seen two people dead in one funeral before. Well, I haven't been to a funeral before.
"Lian, I'm so sorry about, this." I turn around to see a tall man with a sympathetic expression. He's not sad or anything, he's just concerned. He hands me an umbrella and walks away. I don't even know who he is. He's probably a random person that my grandma wanted to invite.
Most of the people here only came here out of respect, thinking that it's polite to just stand there, emotionless, behind the people who actually care. Trapped air busts out through my lungs.
'I don't care', I tell myself. 'All of this doesn't affect me', 'get over it'. I close my eyes, and before I knew it, someone lightly taps me on the shoulder. "Lian, the service is over." My grandmother stands in her black dress. It's weird, she never wears black dresses. She always in either a bathrobe or something flowery. "I know." I leave the sad shower, but I don't remember anything that happened after. Anything after that isn't important anyway.
YOU ARE READING
They Are Stars
Short Story(my grade 8 english project, dont expect much) When your people pass away And everything fades, When you get tangled in a mess, Will you still keep up with this charade? - Fifteen year old, Lian Joulo moved to her grandma's apartment in Manila after...
