Imprinted

Chapter 5

There are parts of my story I haven't gotten to yet. One of the most important, is one I am going to tell you now. I attended my own funeral. In which case I figured out a lot about myself.

There was my family, which is the only reason I know just that little about them. There were also some others that I couldn't put a finger on, I'm guessing friends and outside family, guess I couldn't have cared that much about them. And one particular person who I once had very strong feelings for.

My mother, Isabella, stood there looking at my casket without a single tear shedding her face. Beside her stood my father with one hand on her shoulder. On her shoulder laid a very expensive black fur coat.

My father was in a black suit looking sharp and just a tad more impressive than the other men there. It seemed to me that he wanted their envy. My brother called them both by Isabella and Jonathan, rather than mom and dad.The tearless couple made me conclude that I didn't care about them as much as they had not cared about me.

My brother on the other hand looked as if I was all he lived for. He was a mess, I felt sorry for leaving him behind. He literally fell apart. It wasn't all sadness though. It was also anger. He stayed after everyone left, and swore at me over and over. He let all of his anger and confusion out on me, little did he know that I was listening to everything he had to say.

He was upset that I left him alone and without anyone to count on and anyone to look up to. He was rather mean about it too. But, I have a feeling I know where he gets his mouth from.

I sat there for a few more minutes after he was done with his screaming and crying. After, he felt the relief and the weight lifted off his shoulders of all the thing he had to say. He had both of his hands grabbing the back of his hair tightly. He then let out a large breath. Then just walked away from the grave and I. He came back to us and apologized. I told him it was okay. I loved him, and I told him that. I told him I knew he would turn out to be a better man than I would have ever become. Even though he couldn't hear me.

For all I know, and what the evidence shows is that I was a wealthy prick. I probably didn't care for anything besides money, my brother, and what I was wearing and who I looked better than. Oh, and a girl. This girl was once my girl, the girl.