Black. Everyone is covered in black.
It's still been raining. It will never stop. It's been raining for a month straight.
I stand behind all the chairs neatly in rows. I fix the veil over my face, trying to hide.
People pass by crying.
I hold the note tighter between my fingers. It's folded into a small square. I feel the edges with my thumb, smoothed out and old.
"Kendall."
I turn my back to the voice, taking a seat in the very last row, hiding my face with my hair.
YOU ARE READING
The Magic of Unknowing
Teen FictionYou don't know what is happening in other people's minds until it's too late.
