As I stood at the podium of the small church, I took out the set of leaflets that held my speech. But, suddenly, it was not at all what I wanted to say. I swallowed with some difficulty, looking at the picture of her that had been mounted are framed with gorgeous yellow flowers and frowned, my eyes looking back down at the papers. Hearing the various sniffles and coughs in the audience, I knew they were expecting me to start soon. So I placed the papers on the floor and then, facing the grief-stricken faces of the audience I opened my mouth. "I had a speech prepared for you all. A beautiful tribute to the young lady being honoured today, one I know her parents would have appreciated very much." Susan and Steven smiled from where they were on the front row and I nodded to them. Tom, whose eyes were downcast, jaw seemed to clench. "But, I do not think it is what their daughter would have wanted. So, therefore, I'll just tell you the story. Her story." I blinked back the tears is been holding inside all day, looking once again at the picture of a pretty, blonde haired girl. "The story of Olivia Brooks."
7 parts