Well, here is my first "Less Than 1000" story. WARNING: Angst and sadness follows, as the title implies.
A 30-year-old Kimberly Anne Possible stood beside the fairly large tombstone, looking at the freshly piled mound of dirt. She was looking, but not really seeing, as her eyes were blurred by the constant flow of tears. She wore a conservative black dress with short sleeves. Long black gloves that almost reached her elbows covered her dainty but strong hands.
She clutched a white handkerchief to her breast, which she would use to sporadically dab away the tears that fell from her melancholy green eyes.
The last of the funeral party had left about half an hour ago, but the somber redhead stayed and wouldn't leave the gravesite. She turned her head back to the coffin as it hung just above the hole in the ground.
Her gloved hand gently touched the deep red mahogany wood as she continued to speak.
"You weren't supposed to die." She said in not much more than a whisper. "You were supposed to live forever, and protect me from things such as… this. I already miss your goofy smile… your laugh… your eyes."
Her hand moved along the length of the wood, and Kim let her hand hover in the air as she continued up to the large tombstone. She gently traced the name that was etched into the stone as tears continued to etch trails down her cheeks.
"Such a strong name. I am so proud to have carried it for at least a while."
She then felt a presence behind her that stood slightly off center to her right. She both expected, and knew who it was, but she didn't turn around.
Without any prompting on her part, the figure slowly stepped up beside her and pried a clenched hand from her breast, and squeezed it tight.
Kim turned around and buried her face in his neck as a hand started to gently stroke her hair as it flowed softly over her slumped shoulders.
"I miss him soo much." She sobbed again with a muffled voice, her face pressed against the skin of his neck.
"I know you do." His soft, yet strong voice said. "So do I. He was a good person, and a great man."
Kim looked up into his dark eyes as if she was searching for answers that she could never find.
"Why did he have to die this way? I mean… heart disease? I never expected this so… soon. So… quick."
Suddenly a female voice spoke as a well-manicured hand gently lay on Kim's shoulder. "Kimmie… We really should be going."
The voice paused. "You know he would want us to go on with our lives."
"I know Mom. I know." Kimberly looked at her mother, still clutching onto the strong chest she had her head upon "It's just (sniff)… it's so hard. You know?"
The three walked back to the car that brought them to the cemetery, which was a long black limousine. The driver stood by the front passenger door, patiently waiting. A strong hand opened the door as the other gracefully helped the elder redhead into the car, and then the younger.
The ride back to the Possible house was very quiet, only occasional sobs were heard, which were by the two ladies in the car. The quiet gentleman that sat between them silently offered a shoulder to each as they let their sorrows out.
Arriving at the house all three were helped out by the driver, and then he slowly drove off, leaving the three to their own devices. The strong presence was still there for them as he placed a caring arm over each of their shoulders, and they walked up to the front door.
Keys jangled, and the door swung open to a dark interior. Gentlemanly fingers helped to guide Kim and her mother into the house, and towards the couch.
Flipping one of the lamps on Kim looked around the room, and spoke. "Mom? Where are the twins?"
"They're at Aunt Junes, Kim. Don't you remember?"
"Oh that's right." Kim paused for a bit and then took the matronly redhead into a crushing hug, fresh tears flowing from clenched eye lids "I miss him soo much."
"I know you do, Baby." Anne Possible said, trying to comfort her only daughter. "I know you do."
As they hugged each other once again, those large but gentle hands lay on their shoulders, offering that silent strength once again. This time all three fell into a three-way hug, each one clinging onto the others as if their own lives depended on it.
Kim was the only one that spoke, her voice still shaking from her sorrow.
"Oh Mom… Ron… I miss Daddy soo much."
All three squeezed each other even impossibly tighter, drawing strength from the contact. They would survive, and they would move on. Just as Dr. James T. Possible would want them to.