What am I even doing here?

All around me are faces I wasn't planning on seeing under these circumstances. Some not even at all.

Every shade of black imaginable is being modeled on this sunny afternoon.

It's muggy, but I guess most people here are more bothered by the event than the weather.

I shuffle my way past the women whose tear-streaked faces tug at my heart.

What's wrong with me? Why aren't I crying like everyone else?

I need to just watch where I step, make sure I don't trip on air and cause a scene. That'd be the last straw for this family.

If my feet aren't bloody by the end of today, I'll be surprised. Walking on the grass in high heels is never ideal, no matter the situation.

You stand up here proud. Don't let these people see you crack.

My aunt's words echo in my mind like a mantra.

I sigh and step underneath a tree to try to blend into its shadow. Best to keep out of immediate sight. That family never really liked me to begin with. I'm here because I have to be here.

The crunching of leaves under a young man's shoes gives him away as he stands beside me, the sleeve of his tuxedo brushing my forearm.

He slides his hand into mine and squeezes it, probably reassuring me that everything will be alright.

I don't want to look around because I know I'll only meet those judgmental stares. They think they know everything, but they don't.

I get it, though.

I should be the one grieving most today. After all, my fiance is being buried right before my eyes.

Yet, I desperately cling unto another man's hands like a deprived child.

I cleared my throat.

"Hi, everyone. Thank you—"

Why am I making eye contact with her? The childhood friend that clearly doesn't want me here and never did.

"Thank you for coming out today."

I need to rush through this. Now his mom is the one making me want to throw up. Why am I even here? To be their punching bag today? Like always?

"My name is Brooke, and I, uh—"

I glance back to the tree where he awaits. My saving grace. He's waiting for me. I can get through this. Once I'm done, we can leave.

I take a deep breath and compose myself.

"As many of you know, this August, I was supposed to marry—"