Sinners and Saints

It was a frigid day, my breath making clouds in the sky. I was staring at my sisters casket being put into the ground. All around me was crying and hugs and people paying their respects. It swirled around me like a black and white movie. I didn't move. I stood there through her entire funeral, never moving, never speaking. Silent, cold. Dead. Nothing was left of me but a shell of what I used to be. I wasn't sure I would, or even could live through this. I wasn't sure I wanted too. Life was over for me. All happiness, all meaning. It was gone. It had drained from me the moment the blood drain from the only person I had ever loved. The only person I ever would. I stood there long after the funeral was over, never shedding any tears. Just staring at the sky, hoping that God, if He were real, would take me too. It didn't happen. All of us were sinners. Every single one of us. Even Nikki, even her. We had all sinned, and I realized with the harsh slap of cold reality, that no one was a saint. No one.