This is my first contest entry here on steemit. I'm excited to submit my story to the Story Cubes Contest #6. I've checked out a few other stories and artwork for the Story Cubes Contest # 5 and also from this contest (story cubes #6) and enjoyed them very much. There's a lot of talent here.
Thanks so much to 
The cubes I used were Gemstone, Death, and Sadness.
Check out Story Cubes here: https://steemit.com/storycubes/@jacobtothe/story-cubes-contest-round-6
Image Credit: https://pixabay.com/en/figure-statue-sculpture-woman-face-1109974/
Rite of Passage
This would be her first funeral. Pearl was twelve, just about grown, she thought. Still, her mama continued to fuss with the buttons on her favorite dress, as she had so many times before.
Tears swelled in her mother’s eyes, as she told Pearl how “pretty” she was. It made her feel proud and yet, for some reason, a little sad as well.
The next morning she and her family rode to the old cemetery in long black cars. This was the same cemetery where Pearl’s grandmother had been laid to rest. Pearl was only six when her grandmother died and had not attended her funeral. Her mother had said she was too young. Pearl still fought back tears when she thought of her grandmother. She had been “Gram’s” favorite.
The funeral procession finally crept to a stop. Folks stood silently by their cars as the grieving family made their way up the grassy hill. Pearl lagged behind as the solemn group walked towards the big tent.
Many of them were weeping, gathering before the small casket perched above the open ground. She watched as her mother approached the casket and Pearl saw her break down.
Moved by her grief, she tried to run to her mother's side, but found she couldn’t move… her legs had turned to lead.
Pearl stood there in shock, a soft buzzing in her ears. It seemed as if she was suspended in time. She felt a soft hand caress her shoulder. She looked up to see who had touched her, but could only see the bright sun escaping the clouds.
A familiar voice began to speak to her. In Pearl’s fog, she struggled to make out the words. Finally, Pearl nodded, beginning to understand. She did not belong here.
Pearl gave the mourners- her mama, a long, final glance. Then grasping her grandmother’s hand, she walked away.
