No one ever thinks 'bout the cabbie—you're just a back of an 'ead.
They never noticed me when I drove them, John and Mrs. Hudson. John completely ignored conversation, even with Mrs. Hudson; he just stared out his window, lost in his thoughts. And Mrs. Hudson, thankfully didn't try to converse with me, rarely making a peep to John—both feeling too much grief I suppose. I tried to make myself seem so distant from the pair in the back, I couldn't bring myself to even look at them.
Sentiment.
I knew I would feel grief with just one look at John, I could already tell he had his night terrors back, and even in a few days since my death, he looked so much paler. Even though I knew it was ignorant to take this risk of driving them here, to my grave and such, I still wanted this last thing. To know they cared, still would; and when I came back, they would welcome me back—even John.
The drive seemed to last for quite some time, lack of dialogue amongst people caused that effect. After a long pass of time, Mrs. Hudson tried speaking to John, a failed and last attempt. She didn't speak after that for the rest of the ride, just sat quietly in her seat, looking out her window now as well.
The cab soon reached the grave yard after that, I parked the cab outside the church nearby. I knew John wouldn't want to walk far, but this was the best I could do, since I knew his leg must be acting-up again. I glanced at John through the mirror, and he caught me gaze. His eyes went wide, recognition to my facial features; I had thought so until he turned his head abruptly before handing me the fee quite harshly then dashed out the door. He never looked back after that, just turned a sharp heel as he left beside Mrs. Hudson.
I looked at them leave, I knew I couldn't return until they were safe, then I drove the cab into an empty lot and took off my disguise. I locked the cab, that that it would matter much, and sauntered toward the fences of the grave yard. I watched John salute my grave, the pain and grief still haunting his features.
I tried keeping my face from showing any sentimental resentment, but as I did so, I could feel myself hurting—not physical—but it still hurt. Then as I was about to turn my heel, I saw John fall to his knees, I thought he had some sort of episode, before I looked more carefully, and saw tears running freely on my friends face.
I felt myself hurt again, a nuisance of a feeling, and left—I would not see any more of this—I couldn't…
I'll return to you as soon as possible, so you won't suffer too long.-SH {message not sent – message deleted.}