Life was hell. That’s one thing both you and John agreed on. What was the point of enjoying the nice things if it was all going to take a turn for the worse anyway? You’d just learned to keep your expectations down over time. People could do the bare minimum and you’d be in awe. That’s how low your expectations were. To everything. Some people would call you a pessimist, but in your mind you were a realist.

Yet nothing could’ve prepared you for that… for your father’s death. You’d thought your expectations were so low you wouldn’t get hurt by it.. and you thought you weren’t at first. Then you saw his lifeless face in the open-casket funeral and you broke down, falling to your knees in front of everyone.

John, your coworker and good friend practically had to drag you out of the church. You lost it. Started shouting and yelling, breaking things. He knew it was tough on you. But with a career in the military he was used to death.

He dragged you out to the car, stopping in front of the car, turning you around and shaking you by the shoulders.

“Do you realize what you did in there? Huh?! Ruining your father’s funeral like that? What were you thinking?!”

His voice was gruff, deep and angry. His brows furrowed as he looked down at you with a look that could only be described as furious.