Don't ever forget the life you left behind

The funeral

The lady's in black floor length dresses waltzed over to the table and layered it with fragments of flowers and dried leaves. The prepared the table as though it was a body being readied for a coffin, they spread oil over the decorations and knelt on the floor in prayer. The organ started as 8 men, 4 on each side marched into the church, the coffin resting on their shoulders.
Miranda squeezed her mum's hand as tight as she could. The people stood watching the event take place. Groups of people clustered together crying, not silent weeping but loud uncontrollable sobbing. Miranda could not believe it. Her best friend, gone. Dead. Never to be seen again. Towards the end of Grace's life she seemed to be getting better, smiling even. She was happier and would call up Miranda to catch up with her. There was no sign that this would of happened.
"I killed her!" Miranda shouted, then shocked she sunk silently back to her seat. The people in the pews around her gasped. Miranda's mother sat down next to her. "You didn't kill her, sweet. You're just confused, ok? Don't worry it's not your fault." The people saw what was happening, realised the truth and went back to crying. Miranda cried and cried. She must have killed her. She wouldn't have killed herself. Surely. Surely, It was Miranda that killed her. Miranda was struggling to come to terms with the fact that her best friend had most definitely killed herself. There was no doubt about it. She had gone out of her way to make sure her suicide attempt was a success. She had overdosed on pills, cut herself on the wrist and hung herself. Sadness hung in the air of all who surrounded her coffin.