The morning of Nina's funeral was wet and unseasonably cool. I was still bruised and limping along with the help of crutches. I probably could have made due with a small cane, but it never hurt to play up one's injuries.
As funerals go, it was fine. Probably the most interesting thing that happened was meeting Nina's sister, Mina. She was about fifteen years old at most, dressed in a long black dress of something reminding me of silk. She was the spitting image of Nina, only younger and a bit more goth. She caught me staring at her, and nodded in my direction. I could tell she knew who I was, and that I had dated her sister. Had been in the car with her, as the story went.
I couldn't help but wonder if, with a bit of coaching, Mina could take her sister's place in my life.
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Before you get too worked up, this is a work of fiction. It is a multimedia experiment in 21st century entertainment. Look at it as a horror novel in a different medium. We're from a culture where what you see on the Web is to be believed. So can you believe a work of fiction? Can you tell where your boundaries are?
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To learn more, contact the author.