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It was hard to believe at a time I was so happy, and here I was, breaking down and feeling as though I would never smile or laugh again. As if I could never fully breathe with the knife lodged deep within my chest, piercing my heart and soul.
I sat at my grandmother's funeral void of lies, only embracing the awful truth. I abandoned my paper airplane necklace in the same tin box I put away Nash's toy ring and the real one he got me. No wish of mine ever came true and he himself wasn't true enough for me either. I intended to bury the tin box in my backyard, that way when I was long gone, perhaps some other girl would find the items and have better use with them.
Before I closed the lid I'd gathered the paper airplane necklace for one last wish. I wished for truth, be it with Hector somewhere safe, or a day when my heart wouldn't hurt so much. I didn't think the wish would come true, but for old time's sake, I gave it one last shot.
We were having a graveside service for abuela. Our group was an intimate fifty. We had no blood relatives in Hacienda Heights. My tíos in Mexico called and gave us their condolences, as well as offering us a place to stay. The surrounding bodies around the service were neighbors, friends of abuela's, and members of the set who loved her as much as we did.
One by one a person went up to the podium to speak about abuela and what she meant to them. Some told stories that made everyone laugh. I didn't. Their voices I didn't hear, just a steady buzz in the forefront as my eyes remained cast down at my lap.
I'd put on a long sleeved black dress with a nice pair of black Mary Janes to match. Mariposa had curled my hair and styled it, and she'd also washed it, because god knows I hadn't touched it in days. She sat beside me holding my hand fiercely. She had been since Monday. Her family had come over and helped out as much as possible, and they even helped with arranging the reception we would later have back at my house after the funeral. I'd used some of Nash's money to pay for everything, telling Hector it was a loan I'd taken out for school.
Hector didn't question me. He was too worried for that. I think he had me on suicide watch with how I was handling it. For four nights I slept in abuela's bed, telling myself she'd come to me soon, either to join me once more, or to take me with her.
The only reason I didn't kill myself was because of Hector. My brother had faced so much hardship and pain in his life and I didn't want him to be alone should I go, too. He felt so much to be only twenty-two. He wouldn't say anything, but I knew he was looking forward to our mother getting out of prison. I told myself to hold out that long, that in two years I could go and be with abuela and be at peace because Hector wouldn't be alone. I thought that maybe in two years I might be better and might not want to die anymore. Maybe things would be better.
I wasn't holding out though.
Thursday night I lay in bed with Mari and I told her to take care of Hector if something happened to me, and her response was slapping me, telling me I was talking loca and that I wasn't going anywhere. She'd begun to cry and I didn't know what to feel.
