Movie Funeral Scenes Novels & Stories

Chapter 23: The Funeral Lord Salvaria’s funeral was conducted with great solemnity. Though discreet, it was extravagantly lavish. Many influential figures from Union State attended. They bent their heads submissively before the coffin of the Mafia Don who had ruled Union State for decades, their faces filled with reverence. Afterward, they departed in haste, as though the funeral itself were a monster that might swallow them whole. Mary and Ivanka stood inside a private room, watching everything unfold, feeling as if they were observing a silent farce.

Then the scene shifted—the female lead stood at her husband’s funeral. Only then did Annabelle realize the male lead had died from an illness. After the funeral, the woman returned home, wearing his oversized shirt, lying in bed while repeatedly calling his number—listening to his voicemail over and over again, pretending he was still by her side... Tears welled in Annabelle’s eyes, spilling down her cheeks. She tugged on Kendrick’s hand. “Kendrick, I don’t want to watch anymore.” He immediately paused the movie. “What’s wrong?”

He kept reaching his hands out toward the polished mahogany casket, his fingers twitching as if he could pull her back from the dark. I stood at the edge of the open grave, the cold mountain wind whipping the hem of my black trench coat against my ankles. Braham stood directly behind me, his large, warm hands resting heavily on my shoulders, his alpha presence a solid wall shielding me from the wind and the cameras. Callie stood just a pace to my left, her head bowed in a solemn, supportive silence. When the funeral director signaled that it was time for the final respects before the mechanism lowered her into the earth, I stepped forward.

In all of this I didn’t see her parents but I shrugged it off cause it doesn’t matter, I just wanted this to be over and done with so I can breathe. By the time the service ended, every major news station had broadcast the funeral live. Cameras followed us as we walked toward the waiting cars. Mira wrapped both hands around my arm and leaned her head against my shoulder. The cameras caught that too, every second of it, capturing what looked like a grieving man leaning on the woman who comforted him. Unknown POV Miles away, inside a dimly lit room, a television remained on. The funeral filled the screen from one angle after another. A man sat motionless in front of it, his eyes never leaving

“Dad died because of me.” “No, Estelle,” Lennon cut in quickly. His voice rang with conviction. “None of this is your fault. Please, don’t even think that.” Lennon’s grip on her tightened—too tightly—as if he wanted to prevent her from thinking clearly. The funeral ended with a final prayer. Guests stepped forward one by one to pay their respects before leaving the memorial garden. Only close family remained until the coffin was completely covered with earth. Gloria wept uncontrollably, clutching Roland’s portrait. Kiara held her shoulders, looking just as fragile.

Bart whispered while some woman neither of them knew sang a hymn that probably meant nothing to Mark. “He does.” Rome was still fighting tears, though more of them were due to missing his wife and knowing his father was doing all he could to ensure they’d never be together again, rather than the fact that he was at his best friend’s funeral. That stung, too, but not as much as the thought of losing Ella. “It’s as if he took some of that serum, that sleeping serum they sometimes give to the person playing the body on set so it doesn’t look like they’re breathing.”

The failing December light forced the service to be brief, and after a few words from the minister and a verse of 'Amazing Grace', Sarah's father was lowered to his final rest. I've been to too many funerals. Three grandparents, two parents, even a friend from college. They didn't get any easier. My eyes began to burn with tears, and without thinking I slid my arm around Sarah's shoulders. That got a sidelong glance from Maggie, but Sarah just leaned into me and returned the gesture, and we held each other as the coffin descended.

Additional Chapter 3: Part A * I never look back, it distracts from the now ---- Quote from the movie, The Incredibles. * *** Three days later. It was Jemmy's funeral ceremony. The entire family and some family friends and also Jemmy's friends were all present at the venue... They were all putting on white... As the priest proceeded with the sermon and stuff... The congregation listened Attentively to him while some were shedding tears all through this procedure.

Martin: “You okay to be seen? With the injuries?” I looked in the mirror, tracing the faint bruise on my cheekbone. The swelling was gone, the marks were already faded and I looked almost normal again. Almost. Me: “They’re gone. I’ll be fine.” He sent a thumbs-up emoji and nothing else. The funeral was being held at one of the smaller cemeteries near the city. It was quiet and tasteful. I spotted Michael before anything else. He was leaning against a car, arms folded, a pair of sunglasses hiding his eyes even though the sun wasn’t out. But I could still feel his glare. Even with the distance between us, his hatred buzzed like static.

I was here again, at my own funeral. Standing by the far end while I watched my mom cry despite knowing the fact that I am alive and my father stood like a rock, no emotions, I found myself staring at them again yet this time, the coffin was not empty, it was not closed I was in it. How is that possible? This time Damon was not here, my eyes longed for him and it didn’t matter when everyone in the funeral turned to look at me, they stared at me without saying a word.