My heart hurt, tears streamed down my cheeks at her visitation. I hurt even more so at her funeral. It all seemed fake, she looked like plastic... Like a doll. Slowly it settled in, it dug into my heart like a knife. I never got to tell her that I felt the same. I visited her tombstone each day she used to visit the book store, I'd read some of a book I recently got into or I'd speak of how my day went. Though I missed her I knew she was watching over me, because every time I looked up at the night sky there was always one star that was brighter then the rest.