Sorry I'm Late

This is a short story I wrote for the Halloween competition. It tells the tale of Archie, and the memories he can't forget. She won't let him forget. But who is she? And who's story really is this?

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2. The Funeral.

I guess it happened pretty early on in the funeral: she never waited, even when she was alive. I felt myself going hot. I shifted my weight and pulled up the sleeves of my blazers. I itched my wrists, and attempted to concentrate on the prayer book in front of me. Why was I praying for her? I didn’t know, but I needed to focus on something to take away from the heat rising in my skin. People around my began to look at me, as cool sweat began to trickle down my temples and into my mouth. I breathed deeply, and smiled cooly at the people around me. Everything was fine. Keep telling yourself that, Archie.

The boy woke up dazed. People were talking around him. He attempted to open an eye to see if she was there, but she was gone. He could smell her perfume, and there was a note next to him. He attempted to reach for it, and groaned in effort. All at once, three nurses came into the room and settled him back down. After the commotion was over, he opened his eyes again. The note was nowhere to be seen. In its place were a few sprinkles of black powder. 

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