How he slowly walked from the bottom end where her feet lay so that he could take all of her in. She was dressed in a fitting black dress, and her hands fastened together on her stomach. How still she was, like a peaceful sleep, but no breathing. How he got to her face and saw what his mother never wanted him to see: stab wounds where are eyes should be creating lengthy slits; a permanent smile jaggedly etched into her face nearly ear to ear; how he wanted to touch her face and it’s like she moved on her own as her head turned to him and he saw what her artist wanted the world to see- a permanent grin staining your mind.