Lost soul (Short stories)

It was fine white day. The day that as far as I can remember still resonates to me like a lullaby. A slow and soft rhythm that I don't want to hear again. The pain. The feels. The sad happening. I dont want to be in it again. But this circle, this loop that I'm tied in is what I am. No. It's who I am. Don't misunderstand me, I'm not the Grey wolf. Like you, I am wondering where and how I was trap in here. It was September 11. The day that as far as I can remember don't mean anything. Or is it just I? The candles, The gathering. It irks me. The sound of it makes me wonder why do they have the upward curve lips and glittering eyes? What's there to celebrate? What's there to be happy about? Sadness? Grief? Am I the only who felt that? To make you understand my situation, a loved one just passed away and to my dismay they didn't permit me to see who it was. So how can I know what feelings to express nor shed tear. I'm not a shy type person just a quiet one. I'm somewhat in between. I guess I can say that I can a side character in a story. If there's a corner, there you can find me. For there in the corner, I can be who I am without a mask that they tried to put on in everyone that comes around. We just lost someone and yet you can feel the happiness in those eyes? Argh. Darn it. What am I having this frustration all by myself? I want to know who it was to properly say my goodbye but why Am I stuck? Why am I the only one? Who it was? Then a warm white figure stretch out his hand. It so warm that even my frozen heart starts to melt on its own. What is this feeling that assured me no matter what I am by side side. Without out any doubt, I agree and make my way to hold His hand. He also gives me a smile that everyone one had but it's not a facade. I can feel in His hand that it is true and pure. As we stride to the people around us. They stare at us like who am I to walk with this warm white figure. So I just down and to my surprise the person that holds my hand stopped. He spoke in a low soft tone "Look up, Chin up. Stand straight" And I do as he says. "And don't forget to smile" he added and proceed as I was told. I can feel the vibration on the floor. Why am I feeling a little wobbly? A little dizzy I guess, because of the attention that I was drawn right now. Its not that I hate it, it just that I don't want the feeling. I can now see clearly the black coffin. Then the person on my side caught me off guard and ask me, "Are you ready?" Am I? I want to tell him to give me time but it's almost a year now and my time is up. So I held my breath and count from 1 to 10. With a deep sigh that I let out. I said "Yes, I am" I am now ready to face who it was. For me to properly say my goodbye. As I look at the person in it. To say my proper goodbye to my physical self. For I am the one whose on the black casket. I can feel for the first time the sweet feeling. The joy. The taste of freedom. Someone give me handkerchief "For your tear little one" These tears. These tears are not because of grief anymore. It is what they call tears of joy. "Welcome home my child" From that moment, I can understand. They've been there all along with me. Waiting for me to come home. I am the lost loved one that they longed to be with all along.