The air is heavy as I walk in. Everyone is waiting, staring, expectant. I wish I didn't have to do this. Mitch was my favorite and only uncle. He would show up almost every evening to tease me and stay for supper. He and I had a very strong relationship. I walk over to the small podium in front of the room and pull out my note cards. The room is already in a silent hush, so when I clear my throat the sound bounces around the room a while before coming back to me. "H-" the words stick in my throat. "Uncle Mitch was probably the most loving man you could have ever met. He was there at every dance recital, piano performance, and softball game I was ever a been part of. Since the day I was born, he's been there for me. He even took an old fashioned alarm clock to the face when my mother was in labor with me. Despite his past, the drunk he used to be, his games, the cold, hardened shell he became, he was a great man. I don't know what my life will look like without my uncle to harass me. He is loved and will most definitely be missed." I step away from the podium to give the floor to his lovely wife Fie. "Mitch wasn't only my husband. He was my lover, my confidant, and my best friend. I loved him more than anything, and my life is more than empty without him, it's nearly meaningless. If it weren't for sweet Willow to keep me around, I'd have left the district long ago." Fie sits back down in a fit of tears to give the floor to my mom. "What can I say? Mitch has kept me alive since I was seventeen. He did much more than that though. When I was at my lowest point, he kept me grounded in reality instead of self doubt and pity." The air is silent for a while until, "I only wish I could have kept him alive." In a rare show of insecurity, Mom bursts into a violent fit of tears and sits down. Dad drapes an arm over her shoulders, allowing her head to droop into his chest, and whispers soft words to her. He shoots me a glance, one I've come to known as the 'take over' glance, and steps up to the podium. As I comfort my own mother, tears spilling into her hair, my father begins his speech. "Mitch has my greatest respect. He was able to almost singlehandedly keep my wife alive and sane when I was MIA. I am forever endebted to him, and I'll never be able to pay him back. The least I can do is take care of his lovely wife, Fie, in his absence. Fie, my condolences and love reach out to you." Mom and I continue our sobs in silence as Dad sits next us and takes the reins on comforting the both of us. "Girls, it's going to be okay. We'll miss, sure, but everything is going to be fine." "Peet," Mom snaps. "You don't understand. He didn't keep you sane when the love of your life was absent. Oh, yeah, that was you. You deserted me, and he kept me sane. Don't say you get it because you don't." With that, she walks out of the curch and leaves me with my father shaking and trembling as he fights off another episode. This one looks particularly violent as his eyes narrow to slits and he whips his head around wildly, abviously seeing something the rest of us aren't. I address the crowd. "Everyon out!" Once the room is empty, I turn to my dad. His eyes are black and the grimace on his face proves he's fighting it with all he has. "Dad?" "Mutt!" He screams and lunges at me, latching his hands around my neck. "Dad! Stop! What are you seeing? Let me help you!" I scream, all air leaving my lungs. Suddenly his hands go limp and fall away from my neck. His blue eyes glance to the bruises, deep purple, ringing around my neck. "I did that?" I nod. "I'm sorry. So, so sorry." I shrug. "It's okay." "No it's not. I hurt you, and I swore the day we found out about you, to Haymitch no less, that I never would."