Tears and moans were lurking below the silence.
“That funeral was over as fast as her passing,” my drunken uncle blurted out as we sat in our living room like a black mass.
No one said a word.
Blankness filled my father’s ashen face, while my mother’s swollen eyes just reflected a dour look.
As I took a sip of tepid tea, a gentle breeze slithered around my neck and I wasn’t sad anymore.
Instead, I became afraid that I was the only one who could see my sister’s maimed body in the dim hallway, her clouded eyes glaring with contempt.