The Dagger In Her Heart

1

Alizée Sauveterre

Four years ago...

Everyone has a beginning, middle and end to their stories. Either it's a long beginning or short ending. A rocky beginning or a satisfactory ending. One thing we mostly can agree is that the middle is where everything happens.

And with every middle. You never know what you might get.

I miss my beginning. I was younger, happier, full of vibrant colors. Didn't have a care in the world. I did what every kid did at such a youthful and innocent age. Went to school. Got friends. Got spoiled by their parents and grandparents.

But mine was just a tad different.

My school was filled to the brim with aunts, uncles, and family friends as the teachers and school staff. Most of my friends were my cousins and play cousins. When I got something from my parents or grandparents it was never just a regular toy. No, not my family. They like to go big with gifts.

But my Pépé. He always exceeded when it came to gifts. It was like he owned the love language of gift giving. Once he got me and my brother a zebra for our third birthday just because we learned how to say the name correctly. Papa was so mad because we didn't even pay attention to his gifts until they took the zebras back to the zoo.

Papa is a gift giver too. Just like his father. He always knew when it was the right time to give someone something. Whether it was materialistic item like money or 100 pairs of new shoes. Or whether it was something as simple like a talk or just a hug. But neither of them would want something back in return. They both always said...

"Just seeing you smile, dimples showing, eyes lighting up, is the greatest gift you could give me."

Nevertheless, the beginning becomes to a closing. That's when the middle comes into play.

Because as of right now. In this very moment. I sit three feet away from a casket. In my black knee length dress, with modest neckline that covers my chest and short sleeve. My black heels cemented into the grass. The big black floppy hat and sunglasses covering my tears because the sun isn't showing.

Not for today.

I sit three feet from a casket. In which my Pépé is restfully laying in. Or I believe he is rested. I didn't walk up to the casket. I didn't want the last memory of him to be this.

As the Pastor gave the service, I didn't here a word he said. I just looked towards the picture of Pépé next to me. Examining it for the fifth time.

He was is a black businessman suit, like he usually was. His dark brown skin complexion looking almost identical to mine. His short black but slightly grey hair and beard nicely trimmed. His dark brown eyes looking straight at me with no smile.

Pépé never smiled on cameras unless he wasn't paying attention. Said they always looked forced and unpleasant.

As I continue to look I feel someone's head on my small, 14 year old shoulder, and my hand being grabbed. They interlock their fingers with mine holding on tightly. Squeezing. I observed to see who it was and it was my  brother, Antione.

"Il me manque aussi." He mumbled to me. Wiping his face with his other hand. Antione and me were the only kids my parents had. So it was always Alizée and Antione. We were very attached to each other, and today brought us closer.

(I also miss him)

I didn't answer him. Wiping my own tear that rolled down my cheeks. I glanced at my Mémé. She had on the same hat and glasses yet I have never seen her this distraught. She silently cried to herself, as did I. Ma'dera, my grandmother from my mothers side, comforting her with a side hug, rubbing her arm up and down. Her brightly lit smile was gone.

As was mine.

"My father, André Antione Sauveterre..." I hear my father beginning to say but I subconsciously tune him out. Falling into my fondest memories of Pépé.

It was my fault this happened. If only I wasn't so selfish and inpatient. Asking him to go out and get me something I can't even begin to remember what it was.

Everyone says that there was no way I could have known this would happen but still I feel this way.

Everyone who loved and knew him was here. Even my uncle, Marc, my dad's older brother, was here. We never see him as much anymore unless he wanted to be seen but he is the best uncle. He would watch us when we were younger when Mama and Papa needed a night out. He looked like Papa. Face dry but soul crushed.

"Alizée. Will you sing? He-he always loved when you sing." Papa asked me in a deep cracking voice, standing in front of me. He wanted to cry. I could tell he wanted too but won't.

"Yes Papa." I agree standing up to grab the mic.

I look towards everyone trying my hardest not to turn my head to the casket.

"Amazing grace how sweet the sound. That saved a wretch like me," I sing into the mic. Looking at all the adults swaying side to side.

"I once was lost, but now I'm found. Was blind but now I see,"

I'm going to get my revenge.

"'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear. And grace my fears relieved. How precious did that grace appear. The hour I first believed,"

This was all my fault.

"Through many dangers, toils, and snares. I have already come. This grace that brought me safe thus far. And grace will lead me home,"

This is were my middle begins.