*Woebegone with pains of life*

hey everyone :) ..... this is one of my stories....it's from a muslim girl's perspective so some of the words may seem a little wierd but i'll write their meaning in () :) ...enjoy!

I felt so confused, so lost and alone. Everything I ever knew seemed to be crashing down. I wiped the  

sad tear that was trickling down my cheek, and took a deep steady breath.  

"I have to be strong" I whispered to myself. 

I squeezed my little sister's hand and hugged her to my side rubbing her back as she sobbed against  

me. The back door of the Mosque opened and everyone turned their gazes toward that direction. The  

taste of bile started to form in my mouth as the men came in carrying a wooden box followed by  

another. With a sudden slam of realization I realized that those were the caskets in which my parents  

now lay...Dead. I couldn't quite grasp that my parents were gone and now I was an orphan. Why is this  

happening to me? Am I ever going to see them again? All these questions raced through my head as the  

men proceeded to walk up to where the Imam stood patiently, and anger started to build in my chest.  

No! this shouldn't be this way. My parents are supposed to be here with me. My mom is supposed to be  

here hugging my sister in her loving arms, and my dad should be here standing in the ranks with the  

men and feeling sad for the family that just lost their loved ones. They shouldn't be gone this way! Angry  

tears started flooding my vision and no matter how much I tried I couldn't stop the flow. It's as if a  

faucet has broken and it cannot be repaired. The pain in my chest wouldn't stop, and I felt as if I  

couldn't breathe. I clutched my heart with my free hand willed the pain to stop, but I had no such luck.  

My little sister Sara squeezed my hand and tried to reassure me that she was here for me, and that just  

got me more upset because that was my job. Since now my parents were ....dead, Sara is my  

responsibility my only link to sanity in this world that seems to be falling apart. Just as I started to come  

down a little the Imam's voice boomed from the microphone.  

"Asalamu Alikum ( peace be with you, it's the islamic greetings) sisters and brothers. Insha'Allah (god willing) we will now perform the Jannaza (funeral) prayer. Istakimu (straighten)."  

The Imam's (religous leader in the muslim community) words seemed so final that I just couldn't contain myself at all any longer. Large sobs  

escaped from my lips as the people started to form lines giving me sympathetic looks. I knew that all  

these people here were my parents friends and some of our relatives, but did they really feel the loss  

that I was feeling? Did their chest hurt like mine did, as if someone was thrusting a dagger into my heart  

over and over? No , they didn't feel that. No one but my sister and I ever would. My parents meant  

everything to me and Sara, they were like our lifeline in this crazy world. I took another deep breath  

trying to slow down the tears, but they only came down faster. I grounded my teeth together so hard I  

thought my jaws would break. Finally my breathing started to get back to normal and I was able to  

gather all my strength and take a shaky breath.