Dads POV:)
I stared blankly at my sons coffin as it was lowered into the ground. I had a smug smile on my face as to the enjoyment of finally being rid of him. I mean you'd think the years of abuse would have upped his death date. But I have to hand it to his friends; David and Andrew sure would do anything for 1k each. Even if it meant their friends death.
I looked over the sniffling crown and snorted, wondering why people would be sad he is now gone. I saw his grandmother, Andrew and David, his school friends, school principal, and many other bland faces I could care about. This kid now 6ft under got physically abused, and got abused cyberly. I felt a little bad, but it quickly vanished when I saw a distant figure in the shadows of the foggy morning glaring at me. It wore a black clak with a neon green scarf on. It was smirking at me. I quickly looked around my surroundings, making sure the smirk was meant for me. it was.
I looked back and the mysterious figure vanished. I stumbled fowards and lost balance...falling into my dead sons grave. No one noticed.
I stumbled back to my feet and started yelling for help but it was to no vail. I looked up quickly and saw the soil being thrown down. I screamed louder until it was up to my neck. I gave up and let the dirt compact my lungs.
Karma sure is a b----.