Nine
The line was long - dreary people and sunken faces stuck in black suits and stoic dresses.
Majority of them knew you only by name. And I guess that really was the only necessity in attending a sixteen year old's funeral.
I however, knew you : for sixteen years and counting.
As I looked, no - as I stared at your face a few more moments before the ground swallowed you whole, I failed to see the friend I had for years.
Probably because of the tears - they stung too much.
But I think it was mostly because I pretended too hard that the figure staring back at me was only one of the paper people we used to play with. Not you - not ever.
Reality goes according to no one's will. So I had to let you go. But I will never understand why I had to go without you.
A couple of moments after you were buried, tucked beneath a six foot blanket of earth left forever to stay sixteen, I realized that you and I, we were reality's paper people.
We were subjects to everything a five year old Faith could think of. And it decided to cut and burn the both of us.
But you - you burned too quickly and left me burning still...
