# Chapter Two

#godfather

-RUTHLOW-

I still remember the day I became her godfather.

The man of god had dipped her small head into the water before moving her away. The beads of water trickled off her forehead, and she struggled a little in her cloths as a frown broke out across her face. She mumbled a little, and when I looked over at Gracie, she was restless. She rushed over to the man of god, and held out her hands. He passed Vea back to her, and she held her in her arms, and cooed at her baby. She was overjoyed, and I promised her that I would take care of Vea as well as I could. As someone who called themselves her godfather would.

Gracie was one of the closest friends I ever had. I moved in to the house next to hers and we became friends easily. She had a husband then that gave her many headaches, and she came to me for advice often. I never did understand why she put up with that piece of shit she had for a husband, but she was loyal to a fault.

We often spent the weekends together before Vea came along and she still had the time. I still recall how I would come over to hers, and sit on the couch to put on the channel we both thought was irresistibly hilarious. She’d come over to the empty space on the couch next to me, and have a few good rounds of laughter. Then she would get tired out, and lay her head on my lap to have some shut eye.

It wasn’t just that show that we had in common. We both enjoyed reading too, and Gracie often bugged me to spend time with her outside. She loved the outdoors, and hated being cooped up in that small house all the time. It was boring, she said. So we went out to the bookstores regularly, and perused the shelves. She loved to pick out sweet romances, and one time, she came over to the section I was at, and I introduced a few of the books on psychology I loved to read.

She developed an interest in that area, and bought a few books on my recommendation. She’d take them to the beach with me, and lie down on the picnic mat as she flipped the pages. I read a few crime thrillers beside her, and one time, I suggested to her to take a dip in the water, which was something she never wanted to do.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Thinking nothing of it, I carried her into my arms, and lifted her off the mat as I headed for the waves. She protested, slamming her fists on my bare chest, but I didn’t bother to put her down. I threw her down into the water, and she came out fully wet. And that was when the truth struck me as I was standing there and water slid down her face, her makeup coming off.

The real reason why she hated staying inside.

She told me to stay out of it. And I did. I respected her enough to make her own decisions about her life, and I made sure to be the shoulder she needed to cry on whenever she was fresh out of another episode. She leaned on my support, and one night, she came to me and recounted the worst night of her life, and it was then that it became hard to respect her boundaries. I wanted to teach that bastard a lesson, and I crept up to their residence late one night. Nobody answered the door, so I went to the blinds, and peeked inside after parting the plastic.

They were both on the ground on their knees, their faces a crying mess. Gracie was repeating over and over again that she loved him, and that she would do anything for him, and would never leave him for anyone else. I watched in silence as he vowed to love her properly this time, and to treat her like the innocent thing she was. Gracie’s hands touched the ground beside her and she held onto a rifle while she passed the other to him. They both inserted the rifle into their mouths and promised that they would start anew in the next life with each other.

I didn’t intervene.

I simply stood there, and watched as they cried and shouted like maniacs. Snot was flying everywhere, as was saliva and tears. Gracie kept yelling nonsensical words, and her husband was doing the same. Eventually, his thumb found its way on the trigger, and he pulled it. Showers of blood and brain burst out from the back of his head, and I looked over to Gracie. She removed the rifle from her mouth, and got up.

And stepped over his dead body.

I went home that night without telling her that I had seen everything. She told the community that her husband had battled with depression for far too long, and that night was his last straw. She cried, and bemoaned that she missed all the warning signs. But those eyes dried up when she received her inheritance from him, and before I knew it, Gracie was also gone too soon when she finally had the taste of wealth she always craved. She drank her liver away, and left her child behind. I stepped in to take care of Vea, as I had always loved her like she were my own. By then, I was certain enough to say one thing as her godfather.

I’d sooner kill a person than fail in my duties.