___

                                                                            Five years ago

Rain poured as the typhoon above shoved its fury down against the Japanese coastline. Lightning shot down like bullets, and the accompanying thunder only served to reinforce the horrors the storm presented.

Yet, we weren’t the target of such a force. God had already taken one precious person from us, he wasn’t cruel enough to target his wrath to take another.

Not just yet.

“We come here today to morn the passing of m̵͎̤̃͝o̵̤̥̿̃t̶͓͌͗̓͝ḧ̶͔̓̈́̆e̷̹̞̳͑͂͘r̶̤̔̂̿͠ today. It's always been said that the path that all of us strive for are of uneven length, and our tickets for this world all have limited expiration dates. Let’s celebrate the time she had with us.”
I droned out the funeral director's dorning voice, staring out the window. All those empty words.

Forget it, what was the point of this?

I marched out quietly from the hall, past the rainbow-colored flowers, and grabbed a cigarette from my dress pocket, lighting it with a practiced motion. Surely they’d forgive a single cigarette on the day of my mom’s funeral.

“Why are you so unfair God,” I muttered, loud enough for anyone to hear if they cared enough. “Why couldn’t it have been me instead?”