I stood in-front of Grandpa’s coffin, among the other mourners and people who knew him. I saw umma, crying out her heart for Grandpa beside his coffin. I also saw appa, he had his head in his hands and he was sobbing. Grandma was sitting there quietly with black lace hanging over her faced, crying silently with a monogramed handkerchief.

It was the first time I saw so much sadness.

I had seen movies and read it in books but nothing compares to how it looks when you’re standing in the middle of it.

I sighed and sat down.

Umma came up to me then, her swollen eyes full of anger and sorrow. She stood over me and forced me to look at her then she slapped me, hard.

“Why aren’t you like other teenagers!? Your Grandfather just died! How can you sit there calmly while his coffin lays in-front of you!?” She slapped me again and again, until my cheeks were red and puffy.

I didn’t resist, I just let her hit me over and over. I was too used to it.

Finally, she lost her strength and stopped, crying into appa’s chest. He glared at me.

“Do you have no respect for you umma or your grandparents!? Why aren’t you mourning like the rest of us!?” He hit me some more.

It hurt, but I didn’t say anything.

All the while I could see the crowd staring at us, whispering harsh words.

“What a heartless girl”

“She should be ashamed by not being affected by his death”

“In-considerate good-for-nothing niece”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Grandma, crying silently while she looked on with eyes full of pity and despair.