At the graveside, my father pulls a paper from his pocket. I'm appalled when he reads a poem about the pain of losing a child. "He hated Ryan," I murmur to myself. "He's like jack Nicholson from the Shining.Why can't people see through his facade when he's not holding an axe?" His ploy to turn everyone's attention away from Ryan, and onto himself works. I'm angry everyone's been fooled by his fake, manipulative grieving. "If anyone should be in that casket, it's you!" I shout.

My grandmother rushes over to me, raising her hand. "What did you say?" She threatens to slap me, spit flying from her mouth.

My mother pulls me behind her and says in a warning voice, "Don't you dare hit her." There's a shocked silence, until everyone assumes the scene is a result shocked grief.

"Evie!" I look up and I see, Greg the sandy haired  drug dealer from our school. The one who stabbed his father. He's oblivious to what just happened, he's only focused on me For once he doesn't look like a stoner. He's wearing a suit and tie, his tortured blue eyes looking much older than sixteen. He leans down and says quietly to me, "I know what you meant about your father. He was horrible to Ryan. I wasn't close to him, but sometimes we talked. My father beat me too."

"I hate my father," I splutter.

He gives me a hug. "Yeah, but hate will eat you alive." He watches my father accepting people's condolences. "Ryan wouldn't want you to tear yourself over him like this." You gotta let him go."

I nod, numbly. "I know deep in my heart, you're right, but Ryan shouldn't be dead."

He grimaces as my grandmother joins my father. Both of them overshadow my mother, freezing her out. She's a lone scarecrow figure at the head of the grave. She looks as if she might throw herself into the open, earthen hole any minute. "Sometimes, it's the evil ones who survive." He walks over to my mother and silently gives her a hug.

After the sermon, people start to leave. I see a girl about my age in a blue coat. It's Mabel. She looks at me sadly, then offers a tentative smile as if she'd like to talk to me. She glances warily at my grandmother, and decides to stay put. I see her parents are behind her, a well dressed middle aged couple. In a few minutes, Mabel and her parents leave with my grandparents. They're giving them a ride home. Now that Ryan's been buried, my grandparents are acting is if my mother and I no longer exist.

My mother and I are the last ones to leave the cemetery. She won't leave his casket. The sun's dipping behind the trees. The wind's cold. She has no hat or gloves on. Her nose is red, her face wet with tears. Father Brown, sits down beside her, gently prompting. "Claire, the workmen need to finish for the day." Behind us, I see a yellow backhoe, ready to fill the grave.

~~~~~~~~~~~
A few weeks later, we settle into a small apartment my mother's rented. Everything is so bleak. We have no furniture. The only money we have, is the money my Aunt Louise has loaned us. My mother draws the curtains shut and sleeps all day. She's like a vampire, only leaving the house to go visit her divorce lawyer. Andrea writes her a few letters, but the two of them are too sad to continue the correspondence. After a few months, we don't hear from her. "I wish Andrea had had a child with him." My mother says. "Then I'd have a small piece of him I could hold in my arms."

That would have been a miracle, because Andrea confided in me, my brother was a virgin. I stop seeing colors. My mother stops praying. The world has no purpose for me anymore. The only emotion I feel, is a raging hatred towards my father and Sabine.