Her face was frost-bitten in the cold

as her expression curved into defeat

The gust of wind blew like knives

cutting the soft, supple surface of her skin

The leaves crunched as they flew

in rhythmic patterns down to the ground

The distant roads nearby screeched and honked

as she look to the sky for answers

"Why?" she asked with tears streaming down her face

"Why him?" she whispered 

Time stood still as she sat on the bench

begging for a response

"He was special," she said

"Why him?"
Her voice cracked into silence

The only audible sound was the beating of her heart

Raindrops fell on her nose

as they quickly accumalated into a rainstorm

But she remained on the bench

holding her brother's urn with both hands