Chapter 4

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Reflections.
If you look in a mirror long enough, you can see more than just your outer appeal. It's the most heartbreaking thing in the world. 

"Wow, you have a way with writing," Mrs. Margret says, reviewing over the speech I wrote, "It seems sincere enough, I suppose,"

I look at her through the mirror, catching her small smile. It took me too long to find the right, appropriate words to say. I never had to speak at funerals. just sit and be silent. However, this isn't a normal funeral, no, this is a funeral known to many. 

I stare at my reflection.
I look worn out, especially with the lack of makeup. They said it is protocol, women do not wear makeup at the death of a mob boss. You can clearly see the darkness under my eyes, the discoloration around my eyes that makes me look extremely tired. Glowing brown skin, dead dark eyes, smoothed-out hair, and everything dimmed by a long black dress.

The many protocols I broke had to be covered. 
Your tattoos, they said, they cannot be shown. So they presented a dress with long sleeves and short black gloves.

But another problem. The dress was a v-cut. which exposed another tattoo of mine. My favorite tattoo to be exact. 

the center of my chest, right below my collar bone it says ART.

So they brought another dress that covers my skin all the way up to my neck. I look like the Lady In Black. 

No jewelry, they said as they took out my earrings.

They wanted to make me seem as if I was mourning heavily. I didn't rebel against their wishes as they painted me to be someone I am not. They wanted everything to go as smoothly as possible, and I didn't want to stress them more than they already are. 

Reflections.
They covered my uniqueness to dull and blur me out, just for this particular occasion.
But I see all my defining shapes and colors through and through. 
I have never been more satisfied with the death of a family member, and they know. That's why they are trying to portray is otherwise. 

"The car is waiting outside, Miss Moore," Frank walks in saying, "We should get going,"

I stand and slip into my shoes.
At the bottom of the stairs, Amanda and Kindle were waiting, impatiently it seems. 

They both wear obnoxiously big black hats, like the ones you see in the movies. I hold back my laughter. We are all pretending to care and it shows. 

I walk past them and out the door, where the car waits for me. My car. 
Frank hands me the keys, and we both get inside. I requested to drive there by myself; I couldn't bear the thought of sitting in a car with those two women. Besides, I missed driving an expensive foreign car. 

"How have you been?" I ask Frank, as I make it onto the road.

"I've been well," he twists the ring on his finger, "I got married shortly after you left. You remember my daughter?"

I nod.

"She has grown so much. Eleven turning twelve soon. I didn't tell her this yet, but she will be expecting a sibling soon," he smiles proudly, "Her mother and I have defeated all the obstacles and are finally settling down,"

I smile a genuine smile. Frank has a family now.
I envy him, slightly.

"I am... beyond happy for you, Frank. You deserve so much after all you and your father have done for this family," 

"And you? How have you been, Tempest?" he asks.

In all honesty, how do I answer this question? I am in a state of transition, from normal to abnormal, from simple to complex.

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