It was a dreary day in April. Outside, the rain was coming down in sheets. Even the weather reflected the sadness of the day.

Felicity stood in the middle of her living room, watching as a woman that she didn't know filled a vase with six red roses, which was on a side table, next to her mother's coffin. Her mother had died five days ago. She had seemed perfectly healthy, but when they rushed her to the hospital, the doctor said it was an undetected heart problem. She died fifteen minutes later. Felicity stared at her mother's face, as if she was in a trance of some kind. Her mother had always been gorgeous. Her thick, brunette curls, sea foam green eyes, and creamy complexion matched Felicity's own. Though, right now, her mother's face was caked with makeup. It made her look very… fake, and Felicity hated it.

"She never wore makeup," muttered Felicity.

"Her face would be so pale without it right now, though, sweetie," replied a perky voice; too perky for the occasion.

Felicity knew that voice, that high-pitched, mouse-like voice; it was her aunt Linda, her father's sister. She slowly turned around.

Why wasn't she sad? Didn't she know that her sister in-law had just died? Didn't she know that this was her sister in-law's wake? "Well, she was beautiful without it…" Felicity said, glancing up at her aunt. "I'm really sorry about your mother, Liss. Her death was so tragic. I can't even imagine how hard this must be for you." Felicity nodded quickly, staring at the ground. "Thanks," was all she could muster up to say. Linda patted Felicity on the back and walked off, probably to find a few glasses of wine. Linda was an alcoholic, and she always had been. Felicity was surprised that the bitch had even decided to show up.

Felicity felt a tug on her blouse and looked down. Standing next to her was her four-year-old sister, Francesca, or Franny, as she was called. She was dragging a stuffed purple cow around with her, her thumb in her mouth, and her face blotchy and tear stained.

"Lissy?" Franny whispered.

Felicity knew what Franny wanted, and she couldn't help but look at the little girl with anything but sympathy. She picked her up, and placed her on her hip, holding her close. Franny laid her head on Felicity's shoulder and began to sob. Felicity felt her blouse getting soaked with tears, but she didn't care. She stroked her little sister's hair, ignoring the uncomfortable stares the two of them were getting.

The girls' father had explained to Franny what had happened to their mother. Felicity didn't agree with the in-depth explanation he'd given her. She felt she was too young to hear it. But, she also knew that her father was going through the same thing, and that she shouldn't be so judgmental. Just as they'd lost their mother, he'd lost his wife.

Felicity looked around the room, Franny asleep in her arms. She spotted her father, sitting on their couch, in between two women from work. Every now and then, each woman would flip her hair, and place a hand on his shoulder. It was as if they had timed it perfectly. Felicity clenched her teeth, and suddenly felt her whole body grow tense. How could they be so insensitive? Her father looked extremely uncomfortable, but then why wasn't he saying anything to them? Why wasn't he asking them to stop?

Taking another look around the room, Felicity realized that she didn't even know half of the people there. Most of them were friends of her parents' and distant relatives whom she'd never met, but had apparently been close to her mother.

Felicity put Franny down on the loveseat, and she still didn't budge. Hearing conversations and sounds of laughter, Felicity realized that those were the only sounds she heard. She hadn't seen or heard one person cry yet, other than her little sister. It seemed as if her mother's wake was a joke to everyone but her. A majority of the guests had already had a glass of wine, if not more. It then occurred to Felicity that, other than the presence of her mother's corpse inside of a mahogany coffin, the atmosphere was exactly like that of one of her father's cocktail parties.

"Lissy?" whispered a pleasant, but seemingly distant voice, "Wake up, sweetheart, it's almost time for school."

Felicity slowly opened her eyes, looking up groggily at her mother. She smiled and wiped her tears.

"There's my Lissy Girl," said her mother, stroking Felicity's hair. "Are you all right?"

Felicity nodded and squeezed her mother's hand tight.