Hey so this is my first ever Criminal Minds story! It's only a one shot though. I'm really depressed if Emily really is leaving. It makes really sad cause CM will not be the same without her. But I'm trying to keep and open mind and really hoping that she will stay..idk...

This story is kinda dark. I decided to write it cause I have been obsessed the the song The Funeral by Band Of Horses. It played at the end of the CM episode when Ried was kidnapped by Tobias and I fell in love with it. So yeah. I'm not quite sure how to explain it. It's from Prentiss' POV. But like I said it is dark. Not sure what else to say! Just read and review, but please be nice! This is my first CM fic.

Thanks!

The Funeral

It was like I could feel death surrounding me.

Deaths dark fingers threatening to enclose around me; it's poison waiting to slip into my veins and stop my beating heart; to stop the air from entering into my lungs.

Every time I close my eyes, I see it; death. I see blood the color of a crimson rose, I see faces as pale as freshly fallen snow, and I see faces so pure and untouched that they should never have been etched with deaths deadly mark.

I begin to wonder if I am burning out. I am slowly slipping into the darkness that this job has brought so many unwilling souls too; the unhappy ending full off tears and sorrow.

I feel as if I am leading myself into my own funeral.

I feel like I am slowly walking down the dark steps into the abyss, with a bouquet of white roses in my hands, the thorns tearing into my skin and drawing blood.

My eyes are gaunt and dark, my skin deathly white, my lips blood red. I can see it all play out in my mind. Like my own sick and tormented movie playing over and over like a broken record.

I see the tear filled eyes of my colleagues as they watch my body lowered into the ground. I feel the sorrow hanging heavily in the air.

I squeeze my eyes shut; wanting desperately for these images to stop haunting me. I can hear their voices in my ear, talking about me.

But do they really know me?

Do they know of my own sick and twisted nightmare that I cannot wake up from? Can they tell I am slipping?

Falling off the cliff that is known as sanity? Do they see it in my eyes? Do they see my sunken cheeks, my hollow eyes, my cold fingers?

I don't know what took me this far. Why I have suddenly come to the edge with little warning. I thought I was doing fine. After all, I compartmentalize better than most; even better than some of the greatest minds on the team.

They know something is going on with me that much I know. I have felt their quick glances, their concerned stares. But as of yet, no one has asked.

Maybe they can see the thick walls that I have built up around me. If one of them asked me what was wrong I would most likely lie to their face. Blame it on lack of sleep that we both knew was a lie.

I almost want someone to ask, just to have a shoulder to lean on. But I am to scared they will see me as weak; as just another profiler on the way to burning out.

If they ask, I will lie, but I am somewhat angry because they have not asked. I know it is stupid and childish. I cannot have the best of both worlds so I just wallow in self-pity, alone and empty.

And so I wait. For what, I do not know. I wait for someone to help me. I wait for myself to crack. I wait for someone to ask. I wait to fall off the edge.

I wait for my funeral.