The peace, was hateful. The tears, were agony. The silence was deafening. My heart was moaning, my eyes were watery. My father, Gideon Cotton, was dead. "Everyone, this is- no, this was an amazing man. His body might be dead, but his heart and soul is alive. This man will never be forgotten. Not in our lives. Not in our heart." I began. I went on, and on. But I will never ever be complete without my mother, and father and my promises felt empty. My soul felt sinful. But I won't get all holy in the head. NEVER.