I scanned the sea of black gathered at both sides of the room. A line of unrecognizable people dressed in pure black made their way to Grandpa's casket, lighting the tips of long incense sticks as they bowed their heads, mumbling prayers. I kept my eyes glued to the stubby gray hair of the man in front of me, my gaze never leaving the back of his head.

With every step I took, the faint scent of smoke swirling about in the air only seemed to grow stronger. And as slow seconds flew by, my vision only seemed to get blurrier and blurrier.

People sitting on the wooden benches lining the aisle didn't hesitate to shoot me a look of pity as I passed by. They all knew me as the "heartbroken grandson of 郭 全".

Not that they were wrong.

With so many pitiful eyes watching my every move I knew I shouldn't cry. I just couldn't. But the closer I got to Grandpa's casket the more tears began to swarm my eyes.

I felt like I was drowning, weighed down in the slow ticking rhythm of my own heavy steps.

At last the man in front of me plucked an incense stick from the small bucket on the floor, lowering his head into a bow.

Instinctively, I flicked my gaze to the side, my eyes landing on the many bouquets and wreaths displayed against the wall of the church. After the man was done speaking his prayers, he slowly lifted his head, a puff of smoke rising in the air as he stuck his incense stick into the metal can placed in front of the casket, almost dragging his feet as he walked back to his seat. Only then did I lift my gaze as I took another dreadful step towards the open casket.

I took a deep breath, fighting off tears.

With a trembling hand I grabbed an incense stick from the small metal bucket, feeling the wooden ridges between my fingers.

Calmly, I lit it up, catching a glimpse of Grandpa as I bowed my head. The silence that followed only welcomed the stream of regret flooding my thoughts.

I shut my eyes closed, causing a small tear to roll down my cheek.

I wished I had thanked him more.

I wished I had visited him more often.

I wished he had lived to see Mom and Dad resolve their relationship.

My eyes fluttered open as I straightened my back, my eyes landing on Grandpa's lifeless body head-on.

His skin was paler than usual and his cheeks were sunken in as if any essence of his spirit had been sucked right out of him. A long white blanket lay over his body, leaving only his neck and face exposed. His lips, parted into a straight line, were practically colorless, with only a hint of pink lingering behind.

It felt like just moments ago I was sitting in his room, watching intently as he sketched beautiful dragons into his sketchbook, planning his next masterpiece.

Slowly, I placed my incense stick with the others, letting a swirl of smoke fly into the air the moment it touched the bottom of the metal bucket.

Some part of me still believed that if I were to pinch myself hard enough, maybe I would wake up to find Grandpa, alive and well, reading a book. This situation itself was appalling enough to consider as a nightmare.

It wasn't until I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder that I finally snapped back to my senses.

Instinctively, I snapped my gaze to the woman standing behind me.

Her eyes glazed over as she shot me a look of pity, making a discreet gesture to the long line of people waiting behind us as if telling me to hurry up.

It was then that I realized I had been standing there for much longer than I should've.

I stole another glance at the train of black behind me and with a heavy heart, I made my way away from Grandpa's casket.

***
"Are you sure Vince?"

Without letting my eyes leave Grandpa's gravestone, I silently nodded my head, blinking back tears.

"I'll take the bus," I muttered sheepishly in response. "It's not too far from here anyways."

Dad let out a heavy sigh before finally letting his hand drop from my shoulder, following the sea of mourners leaving the cemetery.

I stood still, snapping my eyes shut for just a second. Droplets of tears dripped from my eyelids, causing them to roll down my cheeks and fall on to my black hoodie, forming tiny wet blotches.

It was then when I opened my eyes again that I saw her. Standing still in my peripheral vision. In front of a white marble gravestone.

Except this time there was no glint of cherry earrings. There were no dimples. All I could see was a heartbroken mourner drenched in black.

And at that moment, she seemed to notice the only other heartbroken mourner in the cemetery standing behind her.

***
*Cue dramatic music*

Lol, anyways, just wanted to say a quick thank you to ALL OF AMAZING PEOPLE reading "The Girl With Cherry Earrings" because just days ago we hit 2K READS!!!!

*Throws rainbow confetti in the air*

YOU GUYS ARE THE ABSOLUTE BEST!!!!! ❤❤❤❤❤

So again, thank you guys SO SO SO MUCH and I hope that you have been enjoying this story so far! :)

See you soon,
~Epiphany
xo