~Jenna~
I struggled to get out of bed. The struggle continued as I tried to shower and dress myself. I’m standing in front of the full-length mirror, and I smooth the black dress that I had plastered on my body. It’s a form-fitting dress with a pencil skirt. I sigh as I step into my black pumps and tuck some hair behind my ear.
There’s no point in makeup because it isn’t going to stay on my face, not today. There’s a knock on my door before it opens. “Hey, baby girl. Are you ready?” I sigh again and clench my eyes to keep the tears in.
“Can you ever really be ready for this?” My dad lets out a humorless chuckle and walks toward me.
“No, you are never ready for this.” He places a hand on my lower back and guides me out of my room and the packhouse.
We are laying our fallen to rest.
