There was a family of four, that didnt act much like a family. The father would come back home at late hours, with the smell of perfume lingering on his clothes, with the same excuse "had to stay in late at work, sorry". The son skips school to go off with some "friends" to do drugs, and steal. The daughter was a whore, a high school drop out since she got knocked up by a guy who wants nothing to do with her. The mother the only one aware of everything that was happening to her loved ones, only grew more and more depressed after each time she tried to pick the pieces up, and only to be put down. That night, while no one was home yet, she took out a knife, went to her and her husbands bedroom, cut her wrists and with her blood wrote on the wall "I love you, goodbye". When everyone got home, they all went to their own room, and as the husband walked into his, he saw his wife dead, in a pool of her own blood.
It was a sad day for the johnsons, Mr.johnson had just passed away, from a heart attack.
All his friends and family came to his funeral, to pay respect, pray, and mourn. Gregory who was close to his father, was holding back his tears, as he came closer to his fathers casket, and when he saw his fathers pale stiff face, all the memories of them playing, joking around rushed threw his mind, and his tears slide down his cheeks, as he silently wept.
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