Break In My Heart

1. Hate & Heaven

I was at my dead "grandpa's" funeral and all I could think about was when I was going to see him again. And not "him" as in the dirtbag that called himself my grandfather, no. I couldn't care less if I ever saw him again. Him as in the boy who shouldn't be running through my thoughts day and night. Tyler. Even thinking his name caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up and my heart to skip a beat. And though a part of me loved it, another part of me was scared.

I tried to focus on what was happening in front of me: my "grandpa's" casket was being lowered into the ground in the small town where Papa and Padre had grown up, met each other, and fallen in love. A small town that also harbored the team of homophobes that beat Padre for being gay. A team that my "grandpa" had sent.

No matter how hard he'd tried, I just couldn't forgive him. I couldn't see him as being a genuine grandfather, and as I watched him being lowered in the ground, I couldn't tell if I regretted it or not.

Next to me, Papa was tearing up. Despite what his father had done to him and Padre, he still loved him, and I couldn't blame him. It had been Papa and his dad for the longest time. They had memories. A history filled with laughter and love that ended with hatred and violence. Padre stood next to him with his arms wrapped around Papa as he gently rubbed his back in the way that calmed him down. I couldn't quite read his expression though.  Next to me, Azalea was tearing up a bit too. She tried to see the good in everyone, even "him", so when he died, she took it harder than I did. She was trying to find his good. I didn't know if she'd found it or not. And other than the doctors who'd been at the funeral, no one else was at the burial site. Nona opted to stay with Adryan and Emmy, but even if they didn't need someone to take care of them, she wouldn't have come anyway. She hated him more than I did, and that was saying a lot.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and I had to fight the urge to instantly grab it to see if it was Tyler texting me. We'd been texting back and forth since I'd left home to come back here. I'd been bouncing back and forth between here and New York since Papa and Padre found out that Papa's father was sick, and though the constant travel sucked, I didn't mind the extra excuse to text Tyler. Yeah, it might've been a simple "how was school?" or "did I miss anything important?", but the small grin that always tugged at the edge of my lips made it worth it. But it shouldn't have.

I wrapped my arm around my crying sister, her silent isolated tears causing the dark black of my suit to become impossibly darker, not that I minded. I brushed the hair from her forehead as I held her, her hair full of life and beautiful. Though she hated it, I love it.

Guilt wrapped its fingers around my heart and slowly started to squeeze like a python to its prey until I was left squirming uncomfortably. Everyone around me was wrecked and I was just...out of place. It made me feel heartless but at the same time-

"Hey," Papa said with a smile, though it lacked the spark and pure joy that was usually behind it. His eyes were red from crying and I could see the trails his tears once took to travel down his face. Padre was by his side, holding his hand firmly in his own. "How are you taking this?" Papa asked as he wrapped his arms around us as Azalea wiped the last of her tears away.

"How are you?" I softly asked on both of our behalf. "I know even though he..." I trailed, carefully picking out my words, "...he was still your father."

He nodded. "I'll be fine," he said as he looked back at the hole that held what remained of his old life and sighed. "I'll be fine."

Padre squeezed his hand. "You're not in it alone, Madison," he whispered as he placed a hand on his cheek, causing Papa to look at him in the love struck puppy way he usually did any time Padre spoke to him. The look that told you that they only saw each other and nothing else. Not the craziness, or the grief, or the pain. Just each other.