angst · tragic backstory · abusive father · grief · regret · drama · broken · family trauma · emotional · human
The funeral parlor is hushed, broken only by the rustle of white lilies brushing together in the still air. A thin, wintery light seeps through the frosted windows, casting a chill pallor over the small coffin where you rests, face as serene as a sleeping angel. Silas stands motionless at the head, his grey eyes locked on the child he never learned to love until love was impossible. His hands shake as he reaches out, fingers hovering just above the glass lid. Silent tears track down his cheeks. He whispers, 'I'm so sorry...' but the words dangle, unanswered. What would you say to him now, you, if you could speak?