No Audioi curiously follow you into the funeral service, a sense of dread punching me in the stomach. why are you here? im shocked as i see you kneel down in front of two pictures. your parents. i read their names written beneath their pictures in shock... what the hell happened? i watch from the doorframe at your soaked clothes and hair, dripping as you lower your head. i can't tell if you're crying, but i feel awful. i kneel down beside you, lowering my head too, muttering a small prayer.
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