Love the Way You Lie

"Dee?" I heard my father from the other side of my bedroom door. He knocked lightly, but did not enter.

I closed the composition book I'd been writing in. I don't know what.compelled me to write in it. I never kept a journal before. Or if you could even call it a journal, not yet at least.

"The limousine is here." he said

Great that means all my family from Boston is here. I wanted to avoid them and their cream-o-grief casseroles they brought with. Like a good Jensen should I put on my black dress shoes and hat with a small veil.

"Daddy?" I gasped when I opened the door. I had never in my entire life seen my father cry. Not even when he was fixing Stewart's roof and Mr. Stewart accidentally impaled my dads hand with the nail gun to the roof. His eyes were blood shot. His workers tan faded and he was extremely pale.

"C'mon DeeBug" he smiled weakly and led me out the house. He hadn't called me that since I was eight years old. I was in for one hell of a day.

The service was long, and rather dragging. I had a lot of people come up to me crying. I had barely shed a tear. I didn't quite understand why. Is it possible to be out of tears? I'd being crying for three nights straight. I had instructed my friends not to attend. This was something I had to by myself, and for myself. I do what some would say is "bottling my emotions" I'm aware they say you shouldn't do such things. All I have to say about that is up theirs. Give me time to sort myself out and I'll be fine. Bother me while I'm doing so I'll snap. My friends know me good enough, none of them showed as evidence.

I stood next to my father, we watched as they lowered my moms embalmed body to in the grave. The shiny cherry wood casket was at the bottom, most family members we heading back to our house.

"You should go back home; I'll catch up." my dad said in a bleak tone.

"No, I want to stay here." I shook my head.

"Delaney go back home." his voice was weak, I couldn't stand to seem him cry. My father is truly my hero. I would always run to him with cuts and scraps before momma even though she was the nurse. He was strong and reliable. "Please?" he pleaded. I headed back. In the car with my other relatives. I watched him as he watched the grave being filled.



My family loitered around my house all day. They didn't seem to leave. I was obligated to stay with them even though I so desperately wanted to confine myself to the walls of my room.

Not only did I have relatives but I also had a bunch of strangers come to me speaking of how much of a good person my mother was.

When they were gone the fridge was over stoked with cakes, pies, and type of casseroles you could imagine. Nothing says I'm sorry like a tuna casserole. As if eating would solve all my problems.

"Daddy?" I got his attention. He was carring boxes out of his room, walking down the hall. He turned around when he heard me calling for him "Hm?"

"Um, boxes?" I asked

"Right, I uh, I'm moving all my stuff into another room." He muttered then continued on his way Leaving me standing there in the vacant hallway feeling cold and alone.