Id never known anybody to die before. In a strange way, the day was like an adventure.
We stood in the tiny churchyard, all cramped together. My mother held my hand tight, her fingers long, cold and bony, crushing my own. I winced in pain, but she didnt notice, her grey eyes stared aimlessly into the distance.
I looked around the graveyard, clusters of black gathered near the hearse. There was so much black it was depressing, just the way funerals are meant to be.
The hearse doors opened and the coffin was lifted out. My dad and my uncles, the strongest men, balanced the coffin on their shoulders. They walked towards the church doors slowly, a look of sheer determination on their faces. The coffin was heavy, I could see it in their faces but they were trying desperately to hide it, out of respect I guessed.
We walked painfully slow behind them and I wondered why they couldnt just hurry up and