Page 10 of I Survived and will rise again

Being loved by Donnie is a precious and priceless gift.

Our love is unbreakable, and our hearts will always stay connected, regardless of any physical separation.

But this is just the beginning of our journey. We know that many more adventures are to come, new stories waiting to be written. For now, we revel in the joy of the present, feeling alive and free.

CHAPTER 3

Josiah

Ilet out a light chuckle as I watch my abuela fuss over me. “Abuela, I'm fine,” I reassure her. She hasn't stopped taking care of me, as if she's worried I'll vanish into thin air. She tucks the blanket neatly underneath my legs and murmurs “Cállate” under her breath.

I reach for her hand, and she stops abruptly, rambling in Spanish. I can hear the love and concern in her voice. Lines of worry etch her wrinkled face, and I can't help but feel grateful for having her in my life.

I call out "Abuela" once again, and this time, she stops in her tracks, turning to face me. Her once golden-whiskey eyes now have lighter portions in the iris and are filled with a profound sadness that is difficult to ignore.

With a pained expression and tears welling up in her eyes, she says in Spanish, “Mi querido. You have always been in mi corazón. I never stopped praying for you. I begged your abuelo to look after you, to make sure you were never alone.” Tears flow down Abuela’s face faster than my heartbeat as she sits beside me. “You broke my heart.” Her voice cracks, ripping my soul apart.

The room fills with the heaviness of our shared emotions as I watch her break down. The mention of Abuelo stirs up a rush of memories and feelings inside me, memories of a kind-hearted man who always did his best to save us from Dad. When Abuelo passed away, my hope of being saved came to an end.

“I know, Abuela,” I respond, trying to comfort her. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to cause you so much pain,” I murmur, my tone full of regret.

Abuela shakes her head. “Don’t say that, mijo. I am just grateful that you’re here with us, safe now.”

“I don’t want you to worry anymore, Abeula. I’m going to survive this,” I promise her.

She takes hold of my face with her hands and gently squeezes. “I have every right to worry about you. You are my grandson, and I love you so much.”

Abuela, speaking in a gentle and loving tone, moves closer to me. “You have always been so brave, so resilient. The fact that you are alive after what happened, it shows your strength—like your abuelito. I am so proud of you, mijo.”

The tears clinging to my lashes, fighting to stay put, finally give up the battle and roll down my cheeks. Overwhelmed with emotion, I take a deep breath, gather my composure, and speak from my heart. "You've always been there for me. You say I have strength, but the truth is, you are the strongest and most loving person I know."

“Mi querido,” she whispers, her voice quivering.

“You are, Abuela,” I say with compassion. “You took care of Mom, Sade,andSophia. Not many would have your strength to help them get through it, and you did it even when you were barely holding it together.”

When Abuela entered the hospital room and broke down, my heart shattered. A tormented feeling ripped through me as I watched three strong women fall apart forme.

Every moment I spent away from them was torture, not knowing what they were going through, especially after Vic showed me a video of Sade’s reaction as they lowered my casket. Her face was buried in Donnie's chest as she tightly clung onto him, grasping at his shirt like it was the only thing keeping her afloat in a sea of sorrow. At that moment, I had shut my emotions off and let the darkness swallow me whole, knowing that was the only way I would survive.

“Don’t you ever thank me for loving all of you.” Abuela kisses my cheek and gives me a tender smile. “I will always be by your side, mi corazón. You are not alone in this.”

A gentle tap resonates through the room. The door creaks open, and my mom peeks her head in. “Is everything okay?” she asks, gripping the doorframe.

“Yeah, Mom, we're good,” I assure her, my lips curling into a smile.

She hobbles into the room, leaning heavily on her cane. Her steps are slow and unsteady, but she perseveres, making her way to the end of the bed. Abuela embraces me. “Te amo, Jo,” she whispers in my ear.

“I love you too,” I say, kissing her cheek softly.

She cradles my face in her hands once more and smiles at me, a smile that speaks volumes of her love and affection.

Abuela rises from her chair and squeezes Mom’s hand before announcing she is going to the cafeteria to grab a cup of coffee.

“Are you okay?” I ask Mom as she sits beside me on the bed, gently placing her cane on the mattress. With a heavy sigh, a small sob escapes her throat. I rush to hold her hand. “Mom, I'm okay.”

Though my physical wounds might heal on the outside, I fear the terrifying struggle to maintain my sanity and my ability to control the urge to destroy anything in my path. Like there’s avicious storm of anger, pain, and betrayal inside me that swirls intensely, on the brink of unleashing its venomous fury.

Sadness sweeps over me when I think of how much Mom has suffered. Watching her limp, it’s difficult to accept that this will most likely be permanent. Even though Sade says she's been doing better, her heart is still breaking, not just for the loss of her husband, but for her children who have succumbed to violence and come near death.

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