The Genius of Playtime Co.

Chapter 8: Funeral for the Living

Pebbles. That's all I notice right now. The fact that there are people standing around me, most of whom I know...I dont Care. The cool air passing by my hair, making my knuckles freeze and making me doubt my decision to appear here.

In front of me, the small flower bed. Behind it, a stone with my mother's name on it. My head feels empty and my eyes are suddenly so heavy. Nevertheless, I see the man who suddenly stands in front of us, puts his arms behind his back and opens his mouth.

"M/N, many knew her and Loved her."

Fucking bullshit, most of the people standing here didn't give a shit about her.

"Words cannot even begin to express our sorrow-

From that moment on, I stopped listening. My mother was far too important to me for this kind of nonsense. I don't need to look around to know who's standing around me. "Relatives" who used to barely notice her. "Friends" who used to just take advantage of them. "Family" who were never there when she needed help.

I guess that includes me

The guy stops talking and people slowly walk out behind me. A man and a woman, uncle and aunt, but to me just two strangers. They stand by the grave for seconds and utter a few phrases, it sounds awful and memorized. They immediately step back and the woman's eyes literally reflect the ground in her tears.

But it doesn't work for me. I always thought that I would cry when one of my parents died - after all, everyone does. But I...just can't. I can't even put on a sad face, not at all.

So I really Dont Care

I feel like shit, like this is all pointless.

Should I have Killed myself after all?

The next person walks forward, I recognize him immediately. He is my father. He looks depressed, after all, he lost the love of his life hours ago. Leaning forward, smelling of alcohol and with an inflamed conjunctiva, he kneels down on the small field. I can only see his back, the scraped-up back of his legs and his red hands falling backwards. But I know for sure that he is about to collapse.

The tears quickly leave his face and hit the grass on which we are standing. I can see exactly how small parts turn dark. More people step forward and put their hands on his back. They say something like "It's all good" "You're not alone". But they are wrong.

If I were kneeling there, crying. Then nobody would care.

Will I ever be ready to live?

Even when I see him kneeling there, crying in mourning. I've already fallen way too deep into a bottomless pit I've dug for myself, and not just in Playtime Co.

"Y/N"

It just doesn't help at all. All of this. It's already happened. She's already dead. I couldn't do anything. I never could. I never wanted to. They all didn't want it...didn't want me. And I loathed them all for it, I'm better, I'm smarter...I'm not like them.

"Y/N L/N? "

It's becoming too much, it always does.

Glances move towards me, but I only see the others as silhouettes. People standing in the background who I will only see in the grave next time, if at all.