"This is all your fault."

That's the only sentence hanging in my head. Haunting me in my dreams, following me when I'm awake.

I was so stupid. I still remember my parents' innocent faces, spoiled, by my own carelessness.

"This is all your fault. If only you hadn't had to let go of the steering wheel. If only you had been careful. If only..."

If only, if only, if only. My brother's words keep echoing themselves in my head. I deserve it. Tears fall as I remember the limp, bloody figures that used to be my parents. The feeling of emptiness, swallowing me, engulfing me, as the silence surrounds. I lean against the wall, getting ready for the funeral feeling like nothing could be worse than the guiltiness settled at the pit of my stomach.
"Hurry up!"
Robert, my brother, barges into my room, and I quickly cover up my half-naked body with a towel.
"Jeez! Can't anyone have some privacy around here?" I snap. He just glares. "Everyone's waiting downstairs. If you don't want to come, fine."
He walks out, banging the door behind him. I sigh, knowing the afternoon will be way too long. I let the towel fall, and pull out an ordinary black dress, falling just a little below my knees. The top part has a simple rose, designed using black sequins. It was a gift from my mother on my sixteenth birthday. I pull it on, feeling sick. Then I put on my heart-shaped locket, with a picture of my parents. Trying to choke down tears, I walk out, lock the door and go slowly down the stairs. My Aunt Claire waits, in a plain black velvet gown, along with my cousin, Bonnie, dressed in a black t-shirt, black jeans, and a black leather jacket. Typical. My brother then walks down, looking stunning in his black tux. I always though he looked hot. Our little party walk out, without addressing each other. My Uncle James sits in his white Mercedes, looking as though he'd rather be somewhere else. And by somewhere else, I know he wants to be in the pub. My father and him never really got along, always arguing about business. I climb in the back seat with Robert and Bonnie, and Aunt Claire gets in the front seat. The whole ride is silent, all except my uncle falling into a blackness of sorrow no one could elude. My Aunt was very close with my mother, and Bonnie and I used to have many sleepovers together, talking about boys, prank-calling our exes, watching horror movies, and doing funky make-up.

She slides her arm around me, squeezing my shoulders. I give her a weak smile, and she gives a sympathetic one in return. I know that there will be many people present, since my parents are- no, were celebrities, my mother a singer and my father a movie director. But still, I can't stop the wave of shock crashing over me as I see the amount of people present in the funeral home. There must be hundreds, if not thousands. A few I recognize. George and Martha, my childhood friends; Mrs. White, the batty old lady living in a broken down cottage; Mr. Thomas, the strict but kind principal of State High School; Mrs. Audrey, my mother's manager, and the rest either families living across the street or teachers. The majority were other celebs. Once I caught a glimpse of Taylor Swift, who's a good friend of my mother's. I'm not surprised to see tears running down her cheeks. We sit int the front row, and as people assemble and take their places, a band plays a soft tune, very clearly expressing sadness and sorrow. I almost burst to tears listening to it. The reverend gets up and walks toward the coffins, saying something. I don't listen. My mind is somewhere else, a place, a beautiful place, a place where my parents are alive, where they watch me playing in the grass with Robert, where they laugh and give us kisses.
Suddenly Bonnie gives me a nudge. I look up. The reverend, a portly man, beckons to me. Oh, right. It's my turn to speak. I walk up, not wanting to look at my parents, and say, "My father, was, well a father that every girl would want. He loved me, and I loved him. I remember the times he and I would go to the hills and cliffs just to annoy our mother, and he would tell me stories of his childhood."
That did not reflect my feelings. One would think I had no love for them. I slowly tell them what I thought about my mother, and how I could cope with them dead. I walk back after, and then, not able to stop, I burst into tears. Bonnie and Aunt Claire try to comfort me, but I am far from being comforted. I can't stop, so I just shrug them off and walk to out. I know people stare, but I don't care. As soon as I am out, I breathe in the fresh air, giving my lungs some freedom.
"I miss you." I say to the wind. "I miss you, Mom and Dad. I'm sorry. For everything. Please come back."
"They can." says a voice. I jump, then slowly turn around. The atmosphere has changed abruptly. The fresh, cool breeze has died down and a chilly wind replaces it. The birds have gone back to their nests, and quite suddenly the sun has set and a silvery orb is in its place. The man standing in front of me steps out of the shadows.

Notes

First chapter. Comments, please? Vote. subscribe.