Rough draft of prologue for "Misguided Ghosts"

I stood there, knowing what they wanted me to do, but not knowing what I was going to do. My body was refusing to coroporate and my mind had been shut off for days. I could feel the eyes on me, waiting so that we could move on. It had been hard enough to get them to allow me to be involved in this part. The people handling this, they werent very close with any of them, so there for, really didnt know how involved I was. How much my life was intertwined with theirs. But none of that mattered anymore. All that mattered was that I get this over with, so that we could head back. I let the dirt sift in my fingers, still not ready to give it up, still not ready to admit that this was even happening. In my head all I could think was, 'How could you do this to me? All of you? Really?' But I knew it was no use. Suddenly, as if things werent bad enough, I heard someone clear their throat, like they were trying to rush me. Are you fucking serious right now? Your going to try and rush me through this? Your going to take away my last goodbye? God, how did I not realize that the rest of them were ass-hats and there was a reason they werent around that much? As I let the dirt go from hand to hand, I saw the light reflect off my left hand, which just squeezed my heart a little bit more. I had only had the ring for a few days now but it was already null in void. Looking up, I could see the impatience in nearly everyones eyes. Scanning the crowd, I spotted a man, my age roughly, standing towards the back. He looked extremely familiar, but I couldnt put a name to the face. I looked away, knowing that I needed to do something. I couldnt just stand up here all day, keeping everyone waiting. So, with a last look down at the ground, I let the dirt fall from my fingers, and listened as it gently hit the coffin, my tears falling like rain with no outlook of clearing up.