Well, there seems to be a renewed interest in this story, so after a long break I've decided to continue it! Sorry it took so long, but I've been really busy with school and moving into a new house and taking care of all my 15 pets! I'll try to update more frequently from now on…
Disclaimer: This is my story, but not my characters. I'm creative, but not that creative. I mean, Topanga? I probably would have named her something more…normal! That would have ruined the whole show, that's for sure!
Chapter Nineteen: The Funeral
Topanga's POV:
The day of the funeral was cold and overcast. We all donned our black dresses and suits and piled into vehicles to drive to the church. We walked in and I was surprised with all of the familiar faces. It was almost like a high school reunion, minus the merriment. Many were in tears and the funeral hadn't even started yet. We filed into the church, and I purposely took a spot far away from Corey. I hadn't spoken to him since the breakfast. I understood why he couldn't be with me, but it was so painful.
Shawn's POV:
The church was beautiful, and flowers topped a white casket in front. There was a picture of him, obviously taken when he was teaching a class. The rest of the funeral was a blur…a tearful blur. I don't think there was a dry eye in the whole church. I hadn't cried since Jack's funeral. I hate funerals. The finality of death scares me, and the fact it can happen at any time. I hate to admit such weakness, but I suppose everyone has some fault.
Angela's POV:
The ride to the cemetery was quiet. I'm sure everyone was reflecting, as I myself was. Upon our arrival, we made our way through the cold and quiet cemetery, with several of the men helping me on the bumpy ground and narrow paths. I'd like to say that the gravesite was on top of a hill with an extravagant marker, overlooking the whole cemetery. But it wasn't. It was nothing but a small space next to an old but surprisingly well kept grave. I guessed it belonged to the first Mrs. Feeny. I hate funerals. Sometimes I wonder who came up with such a morbid principle. However, now was not the time to wonder such things. We listened to the minister's final words, then returned to the car solemn silence. Raindrops began to fall. How appropriate.