One shots

2

Trigger warning: Death

I can feel the bobby pin digging into my head, I ignore it as I look down at the flowers in my hand.

A beautiful bouquet of white and pink roses, each pink flower surrounded by white ones. I look back up at the freshly dug dirt and place the flowers on the headstone before giving a nod to my brother who looks down, I see his casket being lowered into the hole.

Just wide and long enough to fit the black coffin holding my passed father, I try to take deep breaths as I can feel my stomach deflating yet the breath only getting caught in my throat.

I give up and let shallow breaths be my only form of oxygen.

My toes curl in my shoes as I fiddle with the hem of my tuxedo jacket, he would have yelled at me for wearing this, he would have told me it was too masculine, would have yelled at me to change into a dress. Yet here I am going against his wishes, my own fathers wishes at his own damn funeral.

I feel a hand gently place itself on my shoulder, snapping me out of my trance, I look up at my older sister. Whom I hadn't seen in 15 years, a soft look of understanding washes over her face as I try and smile at her, no words were needed as a comfortable silence had formed between us.

My older brother joins us and clasp my sisters hand for reassurance, I feel her other hand move from my shoulder to my hand, she squeezes it gently as to say "It will be ok". A deep rough voice speaks "thank you, we're sorry that we are not holding an after service" the voice ends as I retain that it's my brother, his voice cracking constantly as he trys to compose himself.

I turn towards him as see he his facing the audience of mourners, all with tear streaked cheeks. I pull back the tears from even reaching the front of my eyes, I refuse to let myself cry. I had already done to much of that, so there I stood. My head held high, no tears in sight yet a soft look of sadness resting causing the ends of my mouth to dip downwards.

I let in another deep breath as people start walking back to their cars, I turn back to grave and look down at the man who raised me "I'll never forget" I whisper as I remember when I came out as gender fluid. The look of disappointment on his face, a completly homophobic family except one. Me.

Yep. done. I can't deal. Not today will you have my tears.