AMAZING GRACE
*Abigail*
“I know someone will cry for me when I’m gone.
Whether they are tears of joy or pain,
I’m sure they’d make it count.”
Melody Manful
Three days ago, my mother had a husband, and I had a father.
My father was gone. He was dead because I was seeing things that weren’t supposed to be real.
Because the CIA told the police my father was a new bodyguard we had hired, we buried him using a fake name, together with Felix. At their funeral, a fake family member who was acting as–my father’s family cried for him, but the casket we buried was empty.
The CIA held on to my father’s body because my mother wouldn’t allow him to be buried with a fake name, so after his fake funeral, we had another one where he got all the respect he deserved.
I couldn’t look at my mother’s face without feeling guilty. She hadn’t stopped crying since she learned he didn’t survive the crash. I hadn’t cried since I learned it.
Even when I stood and watched my father’s casket being lowered into the ground, the tears didn’t come. My heart was filled with emptiness. No one dared tell me to cry. I felt as if I were crashing through invisible walls.
The CIA said there wouldn’t be any more danger now that my father was gone. Andrei had sold out the rest of his team to the CIA in exchange for his family’s protection. Even though they said nothing was going to happen, Ben was still supposed to stay with us, and they kept agents around the house.
After my father’s and Felix’s burials, I refused to go inside, staying outside on the field, since it was where we trained and the only place I felt connected to my father. I refused to eat and went inside only to sleep and to try to forget the world.
Even now as I stood shooting reactive targets outside, the tears still wouldn’t fall. I had emptied every gun we had, except for the gun in my hand, which was also about to run out of bullets. My head was filled both with regret and a pain I couldn’t show because I knew my father’s death was entirely my fault. It was me who had screamed and distracted him.
“Miss Cells, please come eat something,” Ben said the moment he reached me.
I didn’t even bother turning around to look at him. I heard and felt the sadness in Ben’s voice, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to keep on shooting and let the noise shut out the rest of the world.
“Miss Cells, are you—”
I whirled around. “Don’t ask me if I’m all right.” I knew that if I heard that phrase one more time, I would do something I’d regret. Was I all right? My father and a man who was like a father to me both died—why the hell would I be all right? Did it look like I was having the time of my life?
My father was really gone. He was never coming back. Everyone was sad. Everyone was crying. Everyone except me.
Ben’s voice sounded so sad. “Your father…”
“My father is dead!” I shouted at him. My voice lacked the emotion I knew should be there, but I was numb. Numb and angry.
“Tears are a luxury we can’t afford to waste.” These were my father’s words, not mine, and the least I could do was obey them.
“Abby, I understand that you’re sad and angry, but that doesn’t mean you should—”
I fired over Ben’s voice to drown it out. When I didn’t hear him anymore, I knew he was gone. I knew he was angry with me for trying to shut myself out.
I fired another bullet, and when I pulled the trigger again and found that there were no more bullets, I threw the gun aside in anger and started kicking the ones around me. I felt like my heart was about to rip out of my chest. The only thing I could do was scream and scream until my throat couldn’t take it anymore. I sat on the ground, angry at the world, angry at everyone but myself.
“Abigail, honey, please come eat something.” My mother’s pleading voice was what made me finally get up. I walked past her and went to my room without acknowledging her. I knew I was causing her pain and making her sadder by ignoring her, but how could I ever face her after taking the love of her life away from her?
I went to the bathroom. When I saw my reflection in the mirror, I couldn’t stop myself. I stared at myself as tears finally ran down my cheeks. I sank to the floor.
By the time I got the strength to get up from the bathroom floor, my eyes were bloodshot and swollen. When I closed my eyes that night, I prayed. I prayed that I would wake up and everything would be as it should be. I prayed for my mother, my friends, and my family.
Come morning, none of my prayers were answered because I woke up to nothing but sorrow. My family was still in mourning.
My father used to say, “Goodbyes are sad, but they are temporary because as hellos end with goodbyes, so will goodbyes start with hellos.”
So, I closed my eyes and whispered, “Father, until I see you again—hello and goodbye.”