Tuesday

Sadness and sorrow fill the air.

It’s expected at a funeral.

The rain only multiplies it.

I think it’s a bit twisted to have the funeral be done in the same church the priest served. It’s a bit more fucked up that he died after fighting through hell to beat his cancer. Mom says he could have survived if his body wasn’t so weak. The irony.

The church is packed full like the entire town is crammed inside. It’s a bit hypocritical. Hardly anyone here is religious, but I guess respect still has to be made. Freyja’s dad at least made an attempt to be something positive in the sea of darkness. For all his prejudices and faults, he was a good man.

It’s uncomfortable for me to listen to the eulogy his wife makes. It’s heartfelt and very sweet. She has a hard time getting through it. I’m uncomfortable because I’m the only one who isn’t sad. I’m supposed to be. Freyja is my friend and her dad died, but I sort of haven’t cared. I think I like it more this way.

It’s Fey’s turn to speak.

She talks about her rocky relationship with her father once she came out to him. She talks about how much her father hated her for being gay. She talks about her personal journey with God and everything she’s gone through. She talks about the day her father willingly talked to Sara and found an understanding. Freyja laughs that Sara didn’t even mean to try and change his belief as she was just being herself. She’s grateful that change happened as it brought her closer to her family and God.

Sara isn’t standing too far away and she’s having a harder time keeping herself together than Fey is.

She closes with her father’s final words.

It’s Alex’s turn to speak.

I wanted to reach out to him. His dad died. He’s in as much pain as his mother and sister. I should have at least acknowledged that he has my condolences. I’ve been silent. I closed his chapter in my book. He doesn’t matter anymore.

We meet eyes for a split second before he begins to speak.

I begin to get nauseous. I don’t want to be here.

Right before the service ends, another person is asked to speak.

Me.

I try to get out of it by explaining I don’t have anything else to say that already hasn't. I don’t have anything to say at all. Why would anyone think that I do?

Of course, it’s because I’m Grace Ciotta.

I’m forced to go up to the podium by the constant peer pressure and I fucking hate it.

The view is different from up here. I see that it’s more packed than I previously thought. They’re all waiting for what I have to say. I’m only here because I’m the example that Freyja’s father believed they should all follow. But that Grace is fake. She’s not real. I am and I don’t give a shit.

But I’m the best at make-believe.

“I’m not exactly sure how to begin. I wasn’t told I’ll be doing this so I never got a speech ready,” I begin. My nervousness has settled and slowed the pace of my words.

I turn my head to look at Freyja, then at Sara. I look at Alex too. He’s encouraging me too. I look at my mom sitting down. She’s smiling for once. She’s proud.

“I didn’t know Mr. Elledge very well. I always thought he was grumpy and scary looking and I only heard stories from Fey. When I met him, he was just as I imagined. Maybe it was because I never really got to know him. The last time we talked wasn’t too long ago. He was a lot different than when I first knew him. He said he was very grateful that he was able to. I think he was able to because of the people around him to challenge him. It’s easy to forget how much our lives can impact each other with so little. Mr. Elledge always strived to bring the best out of people. He’s a lot similar to my mom in that regard and she’s my hero.”

I look at my mom and she clutches her heart.

“I’m not religious by any means. I’m not sure if there even is a God. I would like there to be. Regardless, I think that’s not the point in always trying to be a little bit nicer and kinder. I don’t think God would want us to be kind just because he said so or in case he does exist. That kindness and gentleness isn’t genuine. It’s selfishness masked in selflessness. Mr. Elledge wanted us to strive for genuine kindness too. He lives that legacy in his wife, in his daughter, and his son. He left it with me.”

I have too much hate and anger inside of me now.

Everything I said was a lie.

#

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Freyja lays a checkered picnic blanket on top of Darkwood’s hill so Sara and her wouldn’t get wet when they sit down. They tie their umbrellas to a speaker Sara brought and get under them. I choose to stand under my own. It’s just us three now that the funeral and wake is over. I’m unsure why Freyja asked me to come. She should be alone with Sara at a time like this. I’m less sure why I agreed.

Sara puts on a song that’s calming and intimate and does not raise the volume too high. It takes me a moment to recognize it. It’s not too surprising. Emmah Melody Ryan is also Sara and Fey’s favorite artist. They were lucky enough to see her live in the last concert she ever performed.

I stay out of it while Sara and Fey talk to each other. I fade out and pay more attention to the speaker.

“I’m not sure what’s going to happen,” Freyja says when I start paying attention again. “Alex hinted that he’ll take over the church. He was adamant that he didn’t want to before.”

“Minds can change when things like this happen. It’s a lot to process. I’ll give him time.”

“I’m still stuck on what I want to do.”

“I’ll support whatever you choose,” Sara softly says. She tilts her up at me then grabs my wrist and pulls me down. “Grace, sit. Stop being an outsider. I want you here too.”

“You gave a wonderful speech. I know you didn’t want to. My mom shouldn’t have forced you.”

I sit in between my sister and her girlfriend. I no longer have a choice.

“It’s fine. It wasn’t too hard.”

“You made Mom tear up when you called her your hero,” Sara giggles.

“Freyja, why did you ask me to come?”

She shrugs, “I just thought you should.”

I begin to play with the cotton fibers of the picnic blanket. Sara toys around with a cigarette in her mouth. She never lights them up but having one in her mouth is comforting for her. Fey hugs her knees together and stares at the horizon.

It’s only the light rain and the quiet music now.

I stopped believing in God when he would answer the prayers of all the other kids and never mine.

It was unfair.

God is supposed to be all loving.

Why would he put me through such suffering?

Why do I have to suffer?

What did I do to deserve it?

“How can you believe in a God that took your father away, Fey? Why would he let him beat cancer just to kill him when he did?”

“Grace!” Sara sternly says.

“It’s alright, Sara,” Freyja’s voice is directly opposite. Freyja grabs hold of my hand. “It’s a bit cruel, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“I think this is why God asked me to bring you here. You want to know.”

“I thought you didn’t have a reason.”

Fey shakes her head, “I felt that you should and that was his will.”

“How can you know that?”

“Faith.”

That’s bullshit.

“And what did faith get you? It didn’t save your dad.”

“You misunderstand, Grace. Maybe that’s what I would have thought before, but I’ve grown closer to God. God had nothing to do with it. I’ve learned that worship is optional. The best hymn I know is devotion.”

“How is that any better? What’s the point of God?”

“To be a guide to achieve genuine kindness and gentleness. When I shared my dad’s final words, I lied. I was there when he died. I’m the only one who heard them.”

“Why did you share the other ones?” Sara asks.

“Because it’s Grace’s to hear.”

I jolt back. The weird energy envelopes Freyja similar to how that little girl Adanimsee had. It’s a bit different, like Fey is only borrowing it.

“Do you know what he said?”

How could I possibly guess? I shake my head.

“He said, ‘I see God in Grace Ciotta.’”

The ringing in my ears muffle the world. My vision becomes blurry again. I don’t want to be here anymore. I’m freaked out and it’s getting hard to breathe. I give myself a bit of distance where my umbrella is no longer protecting me and my back is getting wet.

Fey’s creepy aura disappears and I’m able to calm down right after.

Sara’s more confused at Fey than I am. “Are you sure?”

Freyja nods. “I promise.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I try to laugh it off. “We’ve only talked like three times. There’s no way I was the final thing on his mind.”

“Believe me now when I thought you should be here?”

“No, that’s fucking bullshit. How can you say that?”

Freyja shrugs, “I’m not in a position to try to understand what it means. My dad was a fanatic evangelical and stuck in his beliefs. He started to slowly change after he met you. It’s like he knew what he believed in his entire life was wrong. He became accepting of me and Sara after he did. He became so loving. I hope to know why one day.”

“God is cruel, Fey. He took away Elizabeth from you because you loved her. He gave you dad cancer because you admitted you love Sara. He killed him because you refuse-”

Slap!

“That’s enough, Grace!” My sister yells.

She didn’t playfully slap me like she does with Andrew. There was real force behind it. It stings.

“Sara…it’s okay. I’m fine. Grace isn’t saying anything I already haven’t thought of.

“Your dad blamed you for all of that before, Freyja. How can you not blame yourself?”

“Why would I do that to myself?”

“Grace, you still went out of line. Apologize.”

“No.”

“Gracie!”

“No! I didn’t say anything wrong! You prayed for Elizabeth to love you and when she did, he took her away from you! If God is real and is in me, why the fuck did he take so much away from me too?! It’s fucking bullshit! It’s a sick joke”

Slap!

“That’s enough! I can’t believe you.”

I rub my burning cheek while I stare down Freyja. “Don’t think I’ll start having faith over a dead man’s words.”

Slap

This time, Freyja softened the blow by taking the hit for me with her hand.

“That’s enough, Sara,” Freyja's voice is still calm. “It’s been a hard day for all of us. Grace is just lost, let her be frustrated.”

Frustrated is an understatement.

Hatred.

Anger.

Disgust.

I hate myself.

I’m angry at everyone I love.

I’m disgusted that this is all I can feel since my mom broke my heart Sunday.