Today is my sister's funeral. It is drizzling in the sky, as if I am regretting my sister's death. After all, my sister is only 25 years old. In front of the tombstone is my handsome brother-in-law, with a few strands of rain-wet hair sticking tightly to his clean face, and his perfect figure wrapped in a black shirt. My brother-in-law is a soldier, and his long years of military life have made him look much stronger than when he was a child. However, it was only as a child that at 180, he still looked so fragile that people couldn't help but want to protect him. Behind him, a man who was stronger but not taller than him was holding an umbrella for him. I hate this man. I really don't understand why my brother-in-law brought him. Doesn't his brother-in-law not know that his sister committed suicide because of that man? The rain was getting heavier and heavier, as if the grievances that had been held for a long time suddenly poured out, like a sister crying! ! !