Izlandi thought that she would be bored as she sat listening to the speeches being said about the dead, it was a memorial, after all, there wasn't much to look forward to.
But she found the entire process oddly exhilarating, every time another name was called out, and someone came up to give a speech about all the great achievements of the dead, only one thought entered her head.
'It was me, I'm the one who brought about that person's death, the reason they are all going up there to speak of the dead is because of me,' Izlandi's eyes glowed with vigor, and trembles coursed through her body.
She couldn't stop herself from shaking, the exhilaration of knowing that she was the cause of all this despair was euphoric.
"Child are you alright," Izlandi was pulled from her euphoria when she felt a hand on her shoulder, she almost jolted at the touch, but as she turned around she saw that it was just her uncle shaking her with a look of concern.
