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Trapped 15 {Taylena Story}

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Published on Feb 3, 2012

"You know that it's time right?" Maria said as she looked at me saddened eyes. Instead of her usual light pink scrubs, she was wearing a dull gray dress with black high heels. She had light mascara to her eyes her black hair was curled. She stared at me, a frown remaining on her face, knowing I was hurting inside.
I took a deep breath and nodded. I looked at the black dress that lay on the white bed next to me, it lay with no crease or wrinkle. The side of it had small sequins but they were hardly noticeable. A black satin lace veiled funeral hat lay next to the dress, something I would have to wear when my daughter was placed in the ground.
I stood up fixed the wedgie that I had created by sitting on my bed in only underwear and I looked at her apologetically. She nodded, knowing what I was asking her and agreed. As I took the dress in my hands and slid it up my body, I could feel the heaviness in my eyes. There were no tears, I had cried to much in one week that I had no more tears to cry, but the feeling of me wanting to cry was there.
As my arms slid into place, I held up my hair that flowed down my back and allowed her to zipper it. I looked at the hat and took in another breath, embracing myself for the reality of all this. I placed it on my head and sat back down on the bed, bending down to put on my two inch black heels. Judith came in holding two small white gloves and handed both to me, a frown on her face as well.
"I'm so sorry baby girl," Judith said as she applied the itty bit of mascara and eyeliner to my eyes. I personally thought it was a bad idea, knowing that I would be crying. As I walked out of the room, both at maids at my sides, I could feel the heaviness again. I looked up, seeing Anne stand there in a more lady like posture but where exactly what I was wearing. We matched but her face had more make up spewed on it. Miley stood next to her as well, and she matched all of us too.
"You ready?" she said, her face twisting in concern. I nodded and blinked several times, trying to keep the tears in my eyes. She interlocked her arm into mine and we walked down the hallway, to the main entrance and out the door. Our drive, Sampson, bowed his head to us and he opened the black limo and opened the door. I got in first and edged my way into the car, wanting to tuck myself in a ball, hiding my face from the presence of Taylor and his dad. King James had been quiet ever since that one day, leaving me alone to mourn in peace. He at least had some kind of heart that allowed me to cry by myself and not with his troubles. Today he wore a black Armani suit with a red dress shirt and black tie while Taylor matched him.
The ride seemed like seconds to the grave yard. Royals were different. We didn't get to see the body. We went straight to the cemetery and saw the coffin get put into the ground but that's about it. So, the one time in the morgue was the only time I got to see Grace.
As the royal family proceeded their way down the gravel pathway to the side, paparazzi flashed pictures around the gates of the cemetery and were screaming things to me. Not anyone else. Me.
I stood in front of the small maple wood coffin, real gold encrusted on the side of it, little angels in carved within the wood. I now felt the tears fall down my face as the priest began to say prayers in French, some within English and when it was time to place the roses inside the grave after it made its way to the bottom, that was when I lost my mind. My crying became unladylike and my breathing accelerated. I couldn't watch this anymore. The rain began to fall all around us, some non-family members squirming to the limos. Instead of running, I merely walked, wobbling my way through the cemetery, ignoring the stares of people. I reached a small part of the cemetery where light underbrush covered a man's view and a baby's cry rose. There was a small basinet laying on the ground, a newborn laying within...

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