Funeral Narrative

2222 Words5 Pages

I look out the window at the crisp, white crystals spiralling gracefully towards the earth, dancing a cold ballet in the frosty air, and settling gently on the ground together in a soft blanket of snow. Then watch them get squished into a muddy puddle by some oblivious passer-by on their way to school. That's probably what I should be doing. Not squishing snowflakes, the whole going to school thing. I sigh and finally head downstairs, to the relief of my mother who has been screaming at me to leave for school for at least ten minutes. She looks at me, and for a second I'm sure that she's going to give me some kind of lecture but her face softens into a soft smile, the same as my own. My mother and I are almost identical, despite some 25 years difference between …show more content…

"What a loser!" "What are you doing, going to a funeral?" I look down at my all black clothing, partially the reason of all of this bullying. This one really hits hard. I've been to one funeral in my life, and it's more than I ever wanted to go to. It was the funeral of my father. He died six months ago, and the worst part is, we weren’t even there for him. He was on a business trip when it happened. When some cold blooded person robbed him of all of his personal belongings, then killed him just for good measure. And now he’s gone forever and he won’t ever come back. I wore head to toe black, because I couldn’t see the fun in anything, even colours anymore. For a long time, I couldn’t be around people. I did whatever I could to keep them away from me. I didn’t do things with my friends. I threw myself into my schoolwork as a way of escaping. And it worked. But maybe a little too well. Because now, when I’m finally ready to have fun again, nobody will go near me. I'm some kind of social pariah. If anyone ever talks to me it’s usually to throw me an insult. And on the odd occasion that that isn’t the reason behind it, it’s one of the school’s other outcasts asking for homework

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