First chapter of my book

This is hard for me. to put this on i mean. but i want to know what you guys think. so here goes...

Chapter one



The wilted yellow rose fell from her hand as she stood weeping uncontrollably. Her long, dark brown hair perfectly combed and straight. Her face was extra pale and thin, her freckles more visible now, and she was even thinner too, and I could see some of her ribs sticking through her long black dress. The sound of her quiet, choked sob was unbearable. It made me sad to watch, yet there I stood, watching. Poor girl, she must feel so lost, I thought. At the same time though, I couldn’t help feeling sorry for me. They were my parents, now they lay there, in those separate, depressing coffins, cold, like stone, white. I guess that’s what I must look like, I thought. Then, that’s when I realized, it wasn’t another girl, that was me, seeing what I must look like in my head. I remember I used to do that when I was little, play what I must look like in my head in someone else’s eyes. My sobs grew louder then, and I felt someone’s hand on my shoulder, I turned to see a very sympathetic look from Jason, my best friend since 5th grade.
“Riley, I’m so sorry, would you like to crash at my place, get outa here?” Jason asked.
All I could do was nod; anything that I tried to say was just going to come out as choking. He opened his arms, gesturing for a hug, and I gladly hugged him, he always made me feel better. We stayed that way for a while actually. I guess he knew how messed up I was, because he didn’t even make fun of me for getting his new shirt all wet.

After the service, I said my final good-byes to my parents and watched the workers take them away to be buried. Then I just sat there with Jason on the porch steps of the funeral home, staring blankly at the cement ground. He didn’t say anything; I wasn’t one for talking when I was upset, and he knew that better than anyone. We must have sat there for a few hours; finally he stood up and grabbed my hand, pulling me off the ground.
“Come on, let’s go to my place, you can stay in the guest room, my parents don’t mind, I already asked.”
I nodded and walked to his silver S80 Volvo. He opened my door and I crawled in. Quickly, he strode to the drivers side and slid onto the chair, finding the keys. Once he got the right one, he put it in the ignition and twisted it. The car wasn’t loud, it quietly purred as he slowly went out of the parking lot onto the long gravel road to reach the highway. He reached up to turn the radio on, but something stopped him, instead he dropped his hand to his leg and slowed the car, turning to face me “If you want to talk about it, I’m always here, you know that right?”
“Yeah, I know but,” my breathing grew heavy as I tried to hold back my tears, I swallowed hard, “ I don’t think I can talk right now, you can turn on the radio if you want to, the silence is starting to get to me.” I said, as if he didn’t already know.

He nodded and reached up to turn the radio on, but to my surprise he stopped again, and moved his arm to the back seat, grabbing around. Finally his hand came back up, he held a pink home-made CD I had given him last Christmas. He stuck it in the CD player and my favorite song came on. I sunk into the seat and sighed, on the verge of a small smile, but it never came fully out.
“Thank you, you always seem to read my mind,” I whispered.
“No problem, and I don’t have to read your mind, I’ve known you since fifth grade, that’s seven years, you’re not too hard to figure out,” he laughed, and I couldn’t help but join in with a small laugh too.

It was nice to see him again; I had spent every day since my parents died alone. A whole week without seeing him was hell; I didn’t know what to do with myself, but I didn’t want to leave my parents room, so I stayed. For as long as I can remember he was always the one who comforted me. He was my best of best friends; nobody could ever replace him, ever, ever, ever. And as far as I was concerned, no one ever would.




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