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31_days2006-12-05 11:24 pm
tablyn24.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2006-12-05 11:24 pm
December 05 / Original / My First Death
Title: My First Death
Day/Theme: 5th - Close to You/ ~ The radio plays that song you like ~
Series: Original
Rating: PG
We ride in silence. Father at the wheel, gripping tightly the image of his knuckles turning white would have been seen if not for the gloves. Mother sits next to him, looking out the window of the neighborhood we've lived on since before my time began. I ushually sit behind the driver in any car actually, not today. Today I wanted to feel close to him, in my way connected to him, so I sat behind the passanger side. Smirking at myself the knowledge if he were here would clubber me across the back of the head. I watch father adjust his tie at the traffic light, he whined putting it on, that it didn't feel right; mother tried to adjust it but still it wasn't good enough. The lack of time stopped him from fixing it in the fashion he had wished.
"Hey can I turn on the radio?" They answer in the same silence. I have never been to a funeral, this is my first death, I don't know the rules. Perhaps there is to be only silence. Still I know he won't like that, he was a talker, always with a story to tell. Silence never existed when he was around. It shouldn't now. I lean forward inbetween my parents and click on the radio. I laugh out loud as his favorite song fills the space.
Day/Theme: 5th - Close to You/ ~ The radio plays that song you like ~
Series: Original
Rating: PG
We ride in silence. Father at the wheel, gripping tightly the image of his knuckles turning white would have been seen if not for the gloves. Mother sits next to him, looking out the window of the neighborhood we've lived on since before my time began. I ushually sit behind the driver in any car actually, not today. Today I wanted to feel close to him, in my way connected to him, so I sat behind the passanger side. Smirking at myself the knowledge if he were here would clubber me across the back of the head. I watch father adjust his tie at the traffic light, he whined putting it on, that it didn't feel right; mother tried to adjust it but still it wasn't good enough. The lack of time stopped him from fixing it in the fashion he had wished.
"Hey can I turn on the radio?" They answer in the same silence. I have never been to a funeral, this is my first death, I don't know the rules. Perhaps there is to be only silence. Still I know he won't like that, he was a talker, always with a story to tell. Silence never existed when he was around. It shouldn't now. I lean forward inbetween my parents and click on the radio. I laugh out loud as his favorite song fills the space.