The familiar odor of freshly cutted timber and varnish slightly penetrating the air I'm breathing makes me feel a bit giddy.
"Well here we go again" I mutter softly as I hear sobbing voices from the far corner of the room.
I've seen this situation somewhere before,
A lifeless body on a coffin....
Flower arrangements and ribbon laces where monikers with the same surnames were written....
Familiar faces weeping,wailing, calling for an unresponsive name.
"Mom I'm here!" I called her for she's been chanting my name for about a couple hours already.
Dad's at the corner, with bloodshot eyes and a clenched fist.
What on earth is happening?
As I saw more familiar faces arriving, I tried my luck calling them since non of my parents seems to notice my existence but I've been ignored again, for a hundredth times.
Then I remember a scene,which probably happened days ago.
the blood..
the hanging rope..
a slice in the wrist..
and a shining silver blade
And men in uniforms..
"suicide" one of the guys uttered and mom collapsed in grief.
No sir, this is the set up you did after you raped me!
