#funeral

Rabbit coffin-bearers. The adventures of Pinocchio. 1904.

The POV of a Character Trying to Survive a Funeral

☽ the quiet horror of being surrounded by people but feeling absolutely alone.

☽ trying to remember how to stand, how to breathe, how to body when grief makes everything mechanical.

☽ hands trembling for no reason except that the world feels wrong-shaped now.

☽ staring at the coffin because looking away feels like betrayal, but looking too long feels like breaking.

☽ noticing stupid little details, like a crooked flower, someone’s too-loud shoes, or the way the wind refuses to cooperate.

☽ the guilt of thinking about anything except the person you lost.

☽ that surreal moment where you expect them to walk in late, because your brain hasn’t caught up to the truth.

☽ the way voices sound muted, like they’re being filtered through water and cotton.

☽ replaying the last conversation on loop, trying to find words you should’ve said differently.

☽ the painful intimacy of watching strangers cry over someone you loved.

☽ holding back tears until your head hurts, trying to be “composed” for no real reason.

☽ the numbness that feels safer than the grief beneath it.

☽ the strange, unfair anger at people who aren’t crying.

☽ the strange, unfair anger at people who are crying.

☽ wanting to leave, but your feet won’t move; wanting to stay, but the air feels too heavy to breathe.

☽ the body remembering the weight of their touch even as the world forgets their voice.

☽ feeling like you’re underwater while everyone else is above the surface.

☽ searching the crowd for someone who understands you without needing words.

☽ being terrified of the silence after the funeral, the moment when everyone goes home and the grief stops being shared and becomes yours alone.

☽ the private ritual of whispering a goodbye no one else hears.

☽ the small, cruel moment of stepping back into normal life and hating that the world keeps going.