The diary of Alena Peterson

Chapter two

The funeral was exactly one week after. I entered the church alone, but soon was joined by Cecilia Green, a girl in my bio class who I have occasionally talked to. She had platinum blonde hair and square glasses. "Such a tragedy, isn't it?" She said, bringing out a pale white handkerchief and wiping her bone dry blue eyes.

I nod, a serious expression on my face. I see many girls who barely said a word to Alena enter with brand new black dresses, hair done, make up carefully applied entering in a fuss. It made me sick. It's like they saw this as a casual formal event that everyone would attend.

I then noticed Alena's family in the front row. Her 14 year old brother, Pat, who sat blank faced wearing a suit that looked a little too large for his thin body, her mother, Mrs. Peterson who was a stay at home wife in their large mansion. She had her dull brown hair in a fixed bun and she wore a nice black dress with a shall. Then there was her father, he sat still and firm beside Mrs. Peterson. He was the mayor of our town, and he was checking his phone. At his daughter's funeral.

I spotted my friend, Andrew and sat down next to him. Of course he was with his girlfriend, Alex who he never parts with. He didn't even notice me sit down. He was too busy staring at Alex's abnormally large boobs.

I then saw two people who actually were friends with Alena. Jeremy Lablande, a tall, lanky smoker who wore a suit with the tag sticking out, and Nina Smith, a short blonde with pixie cut hair. The two surprisingly looked less in pain than the majority who never talked to Alena. They sat down near the back and did not speak a word to each other. It looked as if they'd prepared for this for not only a week, but maybe months. They looked strong and calm, in the chaos of it all.

I decided I'd had enough judging for one funeral, so I sat quietly and waited for the service to begin.