Imperfect

T W E N T Y - S E V E N - C L A I R E K Y L E S

I heard the car doors shut as I finally put baby Amara to rest.

They opened the door; I could feel the sadness in the air. I could feel the pain and agony inside of them. I just wanted to hug them, but I couldn't because I felt the exact same way as them.

My baby sister was just buried and I missed it. She should be here right now, she shouldn't be in the ground—lifeless and turning into bones. She should be here living her life like the rest of us. She didn't deserve this—she didn't deserve to die.

It was a choice, but the choice was made by someone who apparently didn't show up at his own wife's funeral.

  Who does that? What kind of a husband doesn't show up to his own wife's funeral? That is sick, disrespectful, and uncalled for...

"She looked happy..." Mason said, shutting the door from behind him.

"But she wasn't happy..." I added on to him.

"Right..." Mason responded to me.

There might was a smile present on her face, but I knew my sister. She fakes things sometimes—that smile could've been real or it could've been a put on... OR, maybe—just maybe, the people in-charge of her makeup probably put the smile on her face...

My husband for instance—he was an evil person, he barely smiled at all. At his wedding, he was smiling. For the years that I was married to that man, I never knew of him smiling.

Despite the smile, or whether she was happy or not, my sister was in a better place now—she is probably with Lawrence now and they both are looking over us.