Amy

Amy lowered her head letting her tears stream down her face to her black blows. Someone put there hand on her shoulder as the priest said his final words before her youngest brother was lain down next their mother, who had died the year before.

The grief of losing her mother and make Amy distressed and mute. No one in their town could get her to say a word after her mother had been killed by bandit's right in front of Amy and John who was now lying beside their mother. John wasn't all that much younger then Amy. She was twelve and John was eleven. Once everyone had laid down there roses they looked at Amy waiting for her to step up. She stepped forward looking at her brother's tombstone.

John Saint Paul

Son and brother

March 16th 1881- June1st 1893

Let him rest in peace with

The lord

Her eyes blurred so much that she had to stop walking when she was half way to the grave. She kneeled down beside his grace and laid her rose, the lonely white one in the pile of twenty or so red. Amy stayed like that for five min looking at the tombstone praying. "Lord," she said in her head "Please help me through this. Help met o be stronger. And lord…" she lowered her head to look at the handkerchief John had bought her for her just last year. "Watch over my baby brother, I loved him so much."

She stood up and wiped the dry dirt off her dress. Gently Matthew, Amy's eldest brother, walked her out of the crowd.

"Amy?" someone said softly knocking on her door. Amy curled up even smaller in her ball of blankets. She was sitting on her window sill with pillows and blankets covering her from head to toe.

Amy herd a soft click and a squeak of a floor bored. Jennifer, Amy's oldest friend, sat next to her and moved Amy's chestnut colored hair out of her eyes. "Poor Amy," she said "you should come to church; Mathew, Mark, Sarah, and Luke are worried about you. Come let me help you dress." Jennifer had always been the only one that could get Amy to do something when she was sad.
Jennifer pulled the covers off of Amy one by one. Then set her on her feet. "Lets wear john's favorite dress so everyone knows you're still gracing but just not in black, like john used to say," Amy nodded and went to her closet. She pulled out a bright blue party dress.

Amy pulled her dark grieving dress up and over her head and threw it in a corner of the room with a lot of force.

Jennifer helped Amy button all the buttons and started to put her hair up when she suddenly just let it go. "Lets keep it down and just brush it out; I think you need a brake from normal rutean."

Mark took Amy's right hand when they walked into church and matt had her other hand. When they walked down the aisle all the small group of grievers, without a mother, father, or youngest sibling, with understanding in there eyes. But they didn't understand. They didn't understand that Amy had only known her father for five years before he was killed by the flu. They didn't know how it felt for one day to have a father and then the next have him taken without knowing the lord. They also didn't know how it felt to see her brother waist away just as she was because they had seen there mother chopped to pieces in there own kitchen. They thought they knew the grief and pain she did, but only her brothers, sister, and best frienddid.