January 15, 2008
By Rebecca Proserpio, Richmond, VA


I am in the limousine. The rain hits the windows as I look out into the blur. I hear crying and sniffing and when I look over I see the pale faces. Everyone is wearing black. My skirt and tights are itchy and uncomfortable, probably never to be worn again. I’m not crying, but seeing my family members makes me upset. It’s quiet and no one seems to be looking at each other. We all just want to be in our own world at this moment. When we arrive at the burial, I have to get out of the car, although I dread what is coming next.

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