An End of An Era

See mine (notes) and /*edits*/ below.

Death is nothing more then /*than*/ welcomed peace.

/*Those were Rowan's final words as his head rested on my trembling lap and I stroked the errant curl that always fell over his emerald eyes.*/ (The sooner we are introduced to the character, the better. Also, who the hell is Rowan? Briefly clarifying his connection with the narrator would attach the reader to the character) Like a broken record/*,*/ those tear provoking words echo in my head, over and over again. Plaguing my all too little peace of mind (I just think it rolls of the tongue better this way), and torturing my already shattered soul. Those were the last words he had uttered while his head lay on my trembling lap and I stroked the errant curl that always fell over his emerald eyes. Confusion and anger course through my veins along with my cold blood (redundant. What else goes through our veins besides blood?) as I listen to /*hear*/ the birds singing in the perfect sunny /*clear*/ spring day.(space)Their sweet /*and*/ cheerful sound, (remove the comma) making /*make*/ the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, are not appropriate for a day like this (redundant. You've already clarified she doesn't like the birds). Where is the sad tone or the /*? The*/ stormy skies? It seems /*It's*/ as if nature it is celebrating this horrible day, and mocking his all too simple death. My bitter thoughts (redundant. You've already painted the mood) where /*were*/ broken by the low hum of the priests (apostrophe is missing) prayer as the coffin was lowered into the treacherous earth. Paths of frozen fires formed /*Fiery rivers flow from my eyes and*/ down my cheeks, as I shed my tears. Yet again, those /*Rowan's*/ words rang in my ears/*,*/ so I closed my eyes, (remove the comma) and focused on his normal and sweet voice.

Cool fingertips stroked down my bare arm to the top part /*back*/ of my hand. Frozen to the floor /*ground*/ (I would recommend using "ground" when outside, and "floor" when inside), I looked over to my right, eyes still closed. A bright white figure appeared in my dark black /*blank red*/ vision (in the light, we see red when our eyes are closed. You don't believe me? Grab a torch, close your eyes, and shine it on your face), it was Rowan, it had to be as it had his silhouette. /*It was Rowan!*/ (take this opportunity to briefly describe his silhouette) I refused to open my eyes as I was terrified that once I do (too damn wordy), /*for fear*/ he would disappear.

"Don't cry for me, little one (from this, I gather he's either an older relative or an adult friend). It is not the end of our journey, we will meet again and have the time of our lives/*.*/" He said barely a whisper /*He whispered*/, and kissed the top of my head.

The wind rocked me backwards,(space!)blowing my hair over my face,(space!!)and forcing me to open my eyes. He was gone. Sobs wrecked my body and the ground pulled me downwards as if to say you /*I*/ will join him soon. A familiar melody broke the silence and the wind dried my tears, and cleared my mind. The once treacherous earth seemed to fill me with strength. Although it is not the end of our journey, it is an end of an era. An era of love, happiness and bliss.

Before I begin, I'd like to say that your first sentence might need a 'than' rather than a 'then'. Or perhaps I understood it wrong, who knows.

This was a somewhat intriguing read. I feel like it could be used to greater strengths, however--for one, it is exceptionally short, and while sometimes that's a good thing, this time it proves a bit bothersome. The readers understand little bits and pieces of the story, such as there being a dead person and a loved one of said dead person mourning them, but other than that the story feels empty. Though not all stories require background, I think this could use the extra context. Though, that's just my opinion, so take it with as many grains of salt as you'd like.

However, what I do know is that it is a very powerful snap shot of what is and what isn't. I've always liked the idea of death in stories, they never fail to intrigue me, and this really is no exception. I think I'd like to see more of the 'era' that you sometimes talk about. I feel like I should miss this 'era', this Golden Age, yet I have no idea what occurred in it. What happiness did Rowan provide for the protagonist? What good things has he given that's instantly taken away once he dies? It would be interesting to know, and it would make the scene all the more powerful.

Overall, a solid work, something I would like to see expanded upon.

Signing out,

--EM.

I like the brief emotional snapshot this short story provides. It is very powerful.

Most of the issues I've found are in your grammar. Watch out for those run-on sentences. (Those were the last words he had uttered while his head lay on my trembling lap and I stroked the errant curl that always fell over his emerald eyes. ) I also suggest breaking up more of your longer sentences, even if they are not run-ons. Sentences that are too long break up the flow of the story.
A few more things-
-"wrecked" should be "wracked"
-"lives" He said barely" should be "lives," he said with barely"
-Watch your tenses. Make sure they are consistent.

If you have trouble with grammar and punctuation, I suggest downloading Grammarly. It is a free grammar/spell checker that works very well. It has certainly helped me with my work.