Thirty Days

Thirty days to say goodbye... |Option two of the NaNoWriMo competition!|


25. Six



"So, we were thinking of planning your funeral, today."

My mother greets me with this as I chew my eggs.

"Today?" I mumble with full cheeks. "My... funeral?" I try to keep the strain out of my voice, and keep my eyes fixed firmly on the plate. 

"Yes, today." My mother flinches slightly. I look up at her, seeing only pain in her eyes. "You might as well have a say in your... funeral arrangements." She attempts to smile, but it wavers, falling into a flat line.

I shiver. "I- I can't."

Funeral. In less than a week, I'll be having a funeral.

"No- not today." I whisper. "To-tomorrow." Feeling sick to my stomach, I push back my plate. I'd cross my arms if I wasn't in so much pain.

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