Chapter 23

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It was finally the day of the funeral. I had talked to Aunt Veronica, and she told me the time. I didn't want to wear a dress, so I opted for a black MCR t-shirt, my black vest jean jacket, black skinny jeans, and Jessie's boots. I left my hair down, only brushing it. I didn't do my makeup, because I knew I would be crying. I couldn't believe I was actually going to Grandpa's funeral. After eleven years, I was finally going to look my grandmother in the eye. After everything I went through because of her. Eleven years I haven't seen my grandpa. I was glad to have Patrick and the guys going with me. I didn't like the idea at first, but I was glad now. 

"Lyra?" Patrick asked from my doorway. "You ready to go? The guys are here." I nodded and wiped at my face. "You look beautiful," he whispered, kissing my temple as we walked out of my room. 

I grabbed my black purse on the way out and set my phone inside of it. We went downstairs to where the guys were waiting in the hall, then we left. We rode in Patrick's car, me riding shotgun. I stared out the window the entire drive, not speaking or singing along to the radio. When we got there, I walked in with Patrick's arm around my shoulder. I took a deep breath outside the door and walked in. I saw the coffin and I just broke down. It was real. It wasn't a dream. He was actually gone.

"Who are you people and what are you doing here?" Grandma asked. The anger on her face was visible. Aunt Veronica was nearby and noticed me. She came over and hugged me.

"It's Lyra!" someone said loudly. "How did she know about this? Who told her?" They weren't happy I was here.

"What are you doing here?" Grandma asked nastily. Patrick opened his mouth to speak, but I shook my head.

"I told her," Aunt Veronica said. "I found out who adopted her and went to tell her. Dad would have wanted her here, Mom."

"Get the hell out of here," Grandma said to me. "I got rid of you for a reason, you piece of shit."

"Don't you dare speak to her like that!" Patrick yelled before I could stop him.

"Please, stay out of this," I begged. "It's my problem, not yours."

"Lyra, I will not have this woman disrespect you like," he said angrily.

"Dad, I said stay out of it!" I screamed, sobbing. He froze. I had never actually called him my dad like that. I turned to my grandmother. "I'm here because Aunt Veronica said I should be here. I know you fucking hate me, and you hate me all you want! I'm not here for anyone except for Grandpa! Why would I want to see the faces of the people who cause me to have these!" I lifted my arms high into the air, showing everyone the scars and faded bruises on my forearms. "Nobody bothered to tell me that Grandpa was sick! I was happy with the family I have now! Now I have to find out that no one bothered to tell me Grandpa was dying! I can't believe I once called you all my family!" I was in tears still. Aunt Veronica looked taken aback by my showing my scars.

"Are those Jessie's boots?" my drug addict aunt asked. She was looking at my shoes. She actually liked Jessie.

"Why are you wearing Jessie's boots?" her husband asked. "Take them off! You don't fucking deserve them!"

"They're mine!" I screamed. "Just shut the hell up, Jack! I just want to see Grandpa! That's all I'm here for! After the funeral, you'll never have to see my face again!"

"Good," Grandma sneered. "I don't see why anyone would have adopted your ugly ass anyways."

"Now you've gone too far!" Pete yelled over the crowd. "You are supposed to be her family! She came to say goodbye to the only person in her family that cared about her after her parents died, and all of you are just making this worse!"

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