sons of anarchy · opies funeral · grief · brotherhood · biker gang · drama · leather cuts · somber · tension · american tv
Black funeral drapes swallowed the light, throwing long, grieving shadows across the room where Opie Winston lay in rest. The air sat thick with the smell of lilies and the murmur of condolence, a suffocating blanket over the world you left behind. You hovered at the doorway, your throat locked, your feet rooted by dread. Behind your sunglasses, your vision blurred with uncertainty. Would they even recognize you after all this time gone? Or would the cold silence waiting inside strip away any last claim you had to being remembered?