Essay about Funeral - Personal Narrative

614 Words 3 Pages
Funeral - Personal Narrative

I gaze around. I see one family, brought together, to mourn for one of our own. Countless numbers of dark figures stand on parade, speaking in unison to pay our respects to one whom we adore. The sadness corrupts my inner soul and my heart bleeds a river inside. Nothing could change the wretchedness I feel.

We leave, what seems to me, not a holy church, but more of a devil's palace. But the worst is yet to come. Still shedding tears I climb into the hearse, my eyes fixed upon the noble man in the back, in the vain hope that there would be life in him once again. It is useless. I stare outside in the deepest of depression, worrying about the road that lies
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Our car reduces speed and the driver climbs out. I think to myself, "This is no gate". A gate would be an astonishing gift to me right now. The only thing I can do now is pray and hope. To pray that I will not have to go through this anguish, suffering and endless hell once again. In one sudden movement, my hopes and dreams are crushed into minute pieces of terror and misery, as the hearse driver opens the door. Resistance is pointless. We are already here. A foot away from the gates of fire.

I push open the gate upon its rusty hinges. Though, I know, cemeteries are supposed to be depressing and solemn places, this is out of the ordinary. I am welcomed by an old, decrepit yet elegant chapel, that has been abused by weather and man, but preserved and decorated by Mother Nature. Ivy droops over the freestanding wall and fades away into the rubble and ruins. Through a slight crack in the wall I see the remains of a derelict altar. I continue on, picking up my drained feet off the grassy surface from under them. They are comforted by the pleasantness of a spongy carpet of autumn leaves. A mosaic of infinite colors. A mild breeze slithers past my face and cools me throughout as we enter a kingdom of beauty.

My eyes ascend up into the branches of an oak that has past its prime, but nothing can steal the

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