Disclaimer: I don't own any HSM characters. Nor do I own the idea, I just borrowed it from the novel by Jodi Picoult and put my own spin on it
Prologue
Gabriella Bolton sobbed into her husband's shoulder.
He rubbed his hand up and down her arm, his own tears streaming down his face.
Above her sobs, she could hear the reverend speaking.
Speaking about her daughter.
She saw her son next to her husband, clad in all black. Her remaining daughter was sitting next to her son in a bright orange dress.
Earlier that morning, when Gabriella had seen her daughter in the vibrant dress, she just stared in shock, ordering her to change. But her daughter said her sister would have wanted her funeral to be a celebration of her life, not a mourning of her death. And she couldn't argue with that.
She wiped at some of the tears, and willed herself to pay attention.
The reverend was now going on about how wonderful of a young woman her daughter was.
He shouldn't be the one up there, she thought to herself. He didn't know my daughter.
But, then again, did I really know her either?
A/N: Okay, so, this was the prologue chapter. It's shorter than the rest will be, so as to just get a feel for the story. The rest of the story will be looking back on the events that lead to this. It's based off of the novel of the same name by Jodi Picoult, I highly recommend.
And, REVIEW! Please, with any thoughts whatsoever. Let me know if it seems worth continuing. I've written most of the first chapter, so I'll try to upload that soon, but I'm sick, so I might not be able to right away.