KEVIN
On the day of my mother's burial, the sky cried with me and my father. Today, it was the same.
Rain poured down heavily while my father was being lowered on the ground, white roses were thrown on top of his casket.
Almost half of the police department was present and had given him the salute.
I felt numb.
Is this how it feels like to be an orphan?
I felt so empty and I wanted to scream.
Why did it have to be my father?
Why of all people it had to be him?
Puddles of mud started to build the surrounding barren land, the rain continuously pouring like there was no tomorrow.
When it was my turn to throw the lone white rose I had held in my hand, I gripped it tightly.
"I'll make sure you get avenged, dad. That's a promise."
I watched the flower fall, slowly on top of my father's casket, my heart breaking but my determination to make the bastard pay being sealed.
