In Too Deep //Daniel Seavey//

Prolog

The wind lightly blows as my light brown hair gingerly try's to go with it. In stead of being free my hair is a prisoner and getting in my way. I tuck it behind my ear slowly pacing my way up to the dark podium not paying attention to my overall appearance. My formal black high heels clink up the makeshift wooden stairs trapped in a endless echo.

Twenty people are gathered in the fields of tears and memories just to add a new section to its abundance. I tap the microphone lightly with a quick faint smile following it to ensure the people it works.

"Thank you all for coming to Georgia and David Winston's burial," Everyone's puffy eyes turn to me, "My name is Emily Winston. My parents took me from a bad place and cared for me like I was their own. It lasted for a short 16 years and I am thankful that they chose me to give their undying love to me. Everyone is luckily that they were in this world and deviated that they have moved on."

I smile softly tasting bitter salty tears tailing off my face. My sore feet shakily walk down from the tall platform and bending over to pick up a handful of fine soil in my quaking hand. Their oak coffins are side by side peacefully 8 feet in the ground. Tears kiss the slick gray boxes as they leave my face. My tears sign into sobs as I drop the first handful of dirt on to my parents. The soil scatters into a million little bits as more hot water rumble the still of the moment. A calming hand wraps around my bare shoulders comfortably in a back and forth motion.

"Em. We are have to get going." Without even moving my shocked body to see who it was I know it is the agent the orphanage sent for me, Jim. I breath in shakily backing out of the grave with a slight nod. He leads me to a black chevy as another heart broken speaker started talking in my absents.

He opens the door to the back seat laying me down and making sure I'm secure he closes before he gets to the drivers side. He started driving before my somber state can comprehend it. I don't even know where we are going all the agency told me is I am going to my original orphanage somewhere in Oregon but we are in Phoenix Arizona. Just to get to Oregon is a 16-17 hour drive. Jim turns on the radio and to Hits 1 and the music slowly rested my swollen eyes and mind to sleep.

The last thing I hear is, "Sorry."