Funerals are bad in general,  but when it's the funeral of a loved one?
It feels like the whole world is crashing down before me and the sore lump in my throat grew bigger and bigger, suffocating me as I refused to cry. I've shed enough tears I tell myself over and over, but who was I kidding.

It wasn't raining at Ellia's funeral,  she would of wanted it that way, she was always so bright. I miss her beach wavy locks of blonde hair, it was golden in the sunshine; and the way she smiled, perfect pearly whites and plump lips. She was the happiest person I've ever met,  she was only 16, full of life. Now my sweet blue eyed, olive skin little sister was carefully being placed deep under the cold soil.
Out of everyone attending her funeral I only recognized a select few of close friends and family,  everyone else I didn't know,  I don't think Ellia knew them either, or if they knew Ellia. No one was looking up, everyone was watching Ellia's coffin slowly descend into the grave as the priest chanted from his bible. GOD GIVITH AND GOD TAKEITH AWAY.

I looked into everyone's face, their dull eyes and whimpering lips. I looked up to my mother, quietly sobbing into her own hands, tears streaming down her face and pooling into her hand, the salty water seeping through her fingers. Her heavy heaves made bubbles from her saliva between her fingers also. A mother should never see her own child be buried, she is a complete wreck. My heart is heavy with grief,  not just for Ellia, but for my mother.
My father placed a hand on my mothers back and soothingly massaged her from shoulder blade to the crook. I tried to lean forward to see his hidden face. As far as I could see, his face was blank, emotionless. Dad passed a look back at me, he held a stern look at me for a moment as in to say 'get back in line' but he softened his brow and gave me a weak smile.

I sighed deeply and turned back to Ellia, her coffin made a thump as it fit the bottom of the deep hole.

An old lady with a  woven basket of rosemary stems walked up and stood by Ellia's grave, as 'In the arms of an angel' played quietly behind the crowd of people who lined up to place a rosemary in the grave. Very traditional thing to do at funerals.
 Only close family members and close friends to Ellia were given white roses to throw in, typical, Ellia's favourite  flower was white roses,  a symbol of purity.

My parents and I were last in line so we could spend more time by the grave, also so people could greet us as they passed by, I was last of them all to place the flower. I watched my father pick up a rose, he glanced at it for a while,  examining the withering petals, cuffing it in his hands, squishing it before he then threw it rather harshly in to the hole and stormed off, I didn't quite get a glace at his face but I knew he had the expression of a broken man. He was pretty speechless with his emotions, he was a man after all, a man who just lost his baby girl.

I slowly diverted my eyes back towards my mother, she was watching my father too, I can imagine the speech she was about to make when she got home, telling dad off for storming out of their daughter's funeral instead of staying with her for the emotional support she so desperately needed,  but as her eyes dropped to the ground,  I could tell she was too depressed to bother with him right now, everyone handles funerals differently.
Mum hesitantly picked up the rose, crouched down beside her daughters grave, wiping a tear away as she did so. She kissed the rose and held it to her chest as she said her final goodbye. sharply inhaling and choked out a cry.
"goodbye my sweet little girl." She wailed and let the rose slip from her shaky fingers into Ellia's grave gently landing on the coffin with a thud.
She stood up, using her hands to support her knees and walked off, pulling both sides of her cardigan over her body and hugged herself,  never glancing back.

It was finally my turn. The old lady with the basket smiled gently at me and picked up the last rose for me, handing it to so gently with her brittle old hands as if the rose was going to shatter from the slightest touch, as I grabbed it from her a thorn pricked my finger. "ouch!" I exclaimed, my left index finger displayed a small drop of blood that seeped out from the tiny little hole in my finger. 
"oh, I'm so sorry my dear, I  thought I had gotten rid of all of the thorns." The old lady said, peering down at my finger, hands at the ready as if she was ready to help, but didn't quite know how to help with such a little boo boo. ''I must of missed one, I'm sorry dear.''
"it's fine," I said. "it's just a little prick." I smile weakly, reassuring the old woman. As I rubbed the blood off onto my dress .
She gave me a small nod and backed away.
I stepped towards Ellia's grave carefully as to not fall in. Stroking  the silky soft petals, a little excess blood smeared on the back of the rose, you could see it through the pale petal, but It was the least of my worries.
"So long little sister," I whisper as tears began to swell up in my eyes, the lump in my throat began to throb hard, almost making me want to throw up.
"I'll miss you... I'll always miss you." I cried and let the rose fall out of my hand, falling in the centre of Ellia's coffin.
I slowly turn walked away, wiping the tears that stained my cheeks with the back of my hand.

Rest In Peace Ellia. Rose. Jackson.