written by Neko-B
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I've always considered myself a strong person, but when I lose somebody I care about more than my own life, I don't see how I can hold my tears in.
I took a seat in the front pew, with my mother, father, older brother, and his wife and daughter. My mother was crying hysterically into a handkerchief, dressed all in black. Everybody was. My father had his arms around my mother as he tried to console her, but nothing seemed to work.
Across the aisle, my best friend and his family were sitting, minus one. My friend looked as though he had been crying all night, and he probably had been. His mother was the same way, with puffy, red eyes. His father seemed the same way he always did -- the same stone-cold expression was plastered on his face, but I thought I could see a faint trace of a tear sliding down his cheek.
As I looked up, fresh tears filled my eyes. Sitting next to the open casket was a blown-up picture of her, smiling her precious smile and blue hair draped loosely over her shoulders. It was the picture that was taken for her 11th grade yearbook picture, and she had never looked more lovely. At this point I let out a choked cry, holding my head in my hands and shaking horrendously, as though shaking could undo the tragedy that had taken place.
I don't remember anything that the minister said. We were all too busy crying and holding each other. But I do remember him saying that it was time for us to go see her one last time, before the casket would be closed and she would be buried six feet beneath the earth's soil.
Naturally, my best friend and his family went first. Trunks' eyes went wide as he peered into the casket, and he almost immediately collapsed into his mother's grasp and cried on her shoulder, like a lost little boy. I looked at his mother and could see that she was crying too.
"Shh, Trunks, it's all right," Buruma sobbed, stroking his lavender hair. "Go ahead and cry; it hurts, I know. It hurts so much." Vejita came up behind his wife and stroked her shoulders, and tears slid down his stone-cold face, but he said nothing. He had always been good at shielding his emotions.
When the Briefs-Vejita family had their turn, my family went next. Pan, my niece and the deceased's best friend, was crying. Normally it wouldn't be a big thing -- this was a funeral service, after all -- but Pan never cries. Seeing her break down like this showed that she was human. It was good to know that she cared about her so much. My brother, Gohan, hugged his daughter to his chest and cried with her. Gohan and the deceased had had a close friendship; they had bonded through their love of the finer things in life. His wife, Videl, looked just as heartbroken as everybody else, but she didn't shed any tears. Nobody held it against her; Videl didn't know her very well. My mother and father decided against looking into the casket; Mother was already crying horribly, and Father... well, I guess you could safely say that Father didn't want to cry. He didn't want to be reminded of this loss.
Finally, it was my turn. With racing heart, I stepped up and peered into the casket, and was shocked at what I saw. Bura was lying there in a bed of white silk, dressed in an embroidered white dress that she never wore. She looked very tiny and frail, since she was dehydrated. But it was Bura; anybody could tell.
I bit my lower lip as I looked at her. Tears formed in my eyes as I let my gaze travel up and down her body: she looked so at peace. It wasn't fair: she was only sixteen. She was too young to die; she had her entire life ahead of her. We had our entire life ahead of us. We were planning on getting married, having children...
But we can't have that now. Bura Briefs-Vejita is dead.
Before I began crying all over again, I looked again at the picture of her that stood next to the head of the casket. Underneath the picture, I read what was written in curly caligraphy:
"B-chan"
Beloved daughter and friend
(owari)