I stare at my reflection in the mirror, but it's like staring at a stranger.
I still have the same blonde hair, that I have pulled into a neat bun for tonight. I still have the same hazel eyes, though they are red-rimmed from all the tears. Yet, I feel completely different.
The white summer dress flows nicely down to my knees and the white flats complete the look.
We don't wear black to funerals. We don't even call them funerals, we call it a release.
A soft knock on my door pulls my attention away from the mirror and towards Jake who poked his head in.
His white pants and button down shirt only make the red in his eyes more noticeable. Just the sight of him, ready for the release has tears spring to my eyes.
Jake closes the distance between us quickly pulling me into my arms.
