Diary of a survivor: Chapter 2

When Grace first moved into our neighbourhood, I always thought her to be snobbish; same as the other kids in the neighbourhood. She was always walking fast, heads up and looking straight; almost as if she was in a walking competition. A lot of the neighbourhood girls would gossip about her. Sometimes even in her presence. She seemed to have an I-don't-care attitude towards them. Turns out she actually cared. She cared about what they said about her and she wished she could make them change the speculations about her. The boys just thought she playing hard to get and that sooner or later, either of them would get closer to her. But with Grace, that was almost impossible. I'm not really sure why the girls hated her; probably because she was pretty, I don't know.
But that pretty face is gone. I remember when I went for her funeral at the cemetery. The dress code for the burial was black but I just couldn't bring myself to wear that colour.
""Chinwe, why do they like to wear black at burials""...she asked me one day.
"" How do you expect me to know,, am I the master of burials "".. I replied, pleased at my humorous statement.
"" I'm serious "".. She retorted, frowning.
"OK.. Don't eat me"".. I replied, laughing. "" Maybe"... I continued, "" because it's kind of a sad colour.. So it goes with the occasion ""
"" It's too dull. Everyone at the funeral...