Funeral (1)

I looked ahead of me, and a burial was happening.

The burial had just started, and men, women, boys, and girls were slowly entering the area, but all of them ignored me, and I ignored them.

All the people present were dressed in black clothes, men in black suits, and women in their typical black dresses. Despite everyone wearing black attire, I was wearing a grey-black hoodie with grey trousers and grey slippers on my feet.

Even though I was wearing such an unconventional dress for the funeral, no one said anything to me; no one looked towards me; everyone ignored me.

People dressed in black kept coming while I stood far from the funeral area, but I kept staring at it.

I looked at the dark and cloudy sky, which was devouring the light every second. In short, it was going to rain.

I looked again at the burial area, where the funeral had just started.

Even though I was far away, I could clearly see the face of the boy in the coffin. He had black hair, perfectly combed, his eyes were closed, his face... was normal, and he was dressed in a black suit. The face was something I had seen manytimes and each time I saw it I would say, "Damn. Being handsome sure is a sin." , but this time I didn't say anything. No feeling arose inside me, while I looked at that face. Now that I think about it he is average in appearance.

If somebody could hear my thoughts making fun of the person in the coffin, they would probably beat me up.

But there was no one to hear me.

The funeral proceeded as normal, and finally, the coffin was buried.

DROP-!! DROP-!! DROP-!! DROP-!! DROP-!!

As expected, it started raining. Since I was under a massive tree, rarely any raindrops reached me.

And if some did reach me, they would just phase me.

The people at the funeral, except for a few, all took out black umbrellas.

Looking at the scene in front of me, I couldn't help but think, 'What an iconic film scene. Each and every single one of them should get an award.'

"...."

That was supposed to be a joke.

But not even a tinge of feeling arose inside me.

Was it because the joke was too bad?

Or was it because my sense of emotion had vanished?

Or was it both?

I think the third option was the one closest to the truth. As for what was true, I didn't know.

After some time, people started to return.

After some more time, more and more people started to return.

"He was a good friend."

"Yeah."

"The world is truly cruel; such a hardworking kid died like that."

I could hear the talks of the people passing near me, but neither them nor do I care.

The rain did not stop or slow down; it was there.

After a few hours, there were only three people left.

Me, who was coldly, silently, and lifelessly seeing the burial area.

A woman whose eyes were teary, with her body shuddering from time to time, and she had an umbrella covering the third person.

A girl, with long silky yet disheveled black hair, eyes that were blood red, with her pupils being black, her legs were kneeling, and her hands were stopping her from being laid in the wet ground. From where I was, I could not see her face that was covered by her disheveled hair only her dark circles near her eyes.

That girl, Amelia Renfield, was my lover.