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As I stood watching the rain steadily turn the freshly laid soil into mud the irony of the weather did not escape my notice. On a day like today when all I wanted was it to be over, to all just be a dream and I will wake and everything to be as it was.
My mind was numb. I hadn't cried since the day it happened. What was wrong with me? Not able to show even a little emotion. Daphne and the Chanders had been great; they gave me a place to stay. I couldn't go back to that house, not then, still haven't.
I had so many things to do and I didn't know where to begin. Who is prepared at barely 18 to go through this hell? When I think about what could have been I shake myself, tell myself to get over it.
Times like this I wish I had paid more attention to what went on all those years ago after my grandparents died. I ask myself, what would Mom do? Please help! I screamed internally.
It doesn't help in the slightest.
If I hadn't persuaded them to let me and Daphne have that week to ourselves, would it have been different? Would I be gone as well?
Person after person shook my hand. People I knew well, some I recognised from the Country Club and those I did not from my dad's business dealings. All of them offering condolences for my loss.
As if that would help me now.
I knew I should respond more than a small nod of the head, Daphne clutched at my arm throughout the ordeal but all I could think of was I had no one left.
Mom, Dad and my baby sister Molly were dead.
Killed by the very person I had a crush on for the past year. Drunk and high on drugs he had crashed into our family car sending it careening into the path of a Truck.
He got away with minimum injuries. They lost their lives.
Molly clung on to her precious short life for 3 days before finally succumbing to her injuries. Mom and Dad were dead on impact. Faulty air bags did nothing to save them. The Irony of my Dad bragging about his brand new car and one of the safety measures designed to help save you in an accident did not work, was bittersweet.
Chris Hobbs. Aged 18 and in prison for causing the deaths of my family.
He had been my first indication that I was attracted to guys. I had never been interested in girls aside from Daphne being my best friend. I spent most of my senior year sketching Chris Hobbs both clothed and what I imagined he would look like under his clothing.
It was one relief I suppose that my father never found out about my sexuality. He suspected I'm sure but the man was adamant that his son would go to Dartmouth, marry a nice girl and go into the family business. No son of his would ever be homosexual.
I am unsure as to how my Mom would have reacted, forever the good wife she hid behind my father's ideals and rarely spoke up for herself. I live in the hope that she would have loved me no matter what.
It doesn't matter anymore. They are both gone. I have no family to speak of. My grandparents had died years ago and my parents were only children of only children.
I have no one bar Daphne who is leaving for New York in a few short weeks. Off to start her new life, make new friends. Not that our friendship would end, we would try our hardest to maintain it.
I didn't know what I was going to do now. I had been resigned to go to Dartmouth, follow my father's wishes of the ever obedient son.
Once it was all over and I returned to the Chanders house for the evening I headed to the guest room not wishing to exchange pleasantries any longer. I wanted to shut the world out and not think of anything at all.
Tomorrow I vowed. Tomorrow I will start to deal with all the things that need done so I can start to move on.
With that last thought I drifted off into an exhausted deep sleep.
