A funeral of hope

I sat there in silence. My friend had died , and her mother died a month ago. I was at her funeral. Her dad came up to me and said: "It's okay, I bet she would want you to "celebrate" her death!" I looked up to see him smiling, I couldn't control myself, I glared at him and said:"She died to get away from abusers like you..." Before he had walked away he said:"You better watch it, you little ignorant brat!" I had to control myself, so I put my hands in fists, thinking:"What I never did was stop the cruel, not even then". By then, the funeral ended. So I walked out, the dad came up to me and slapped me, he was about to hit me again, so I ran, I ran so far, the dad gave up on chasing me. I ran and cried, then I tripped on a stone, my knee was all bloody, I sat there in a puddle of water and blood. I remembered my friend saying:"Never give up, fight for what's right." I then smiled as if she was right next to me. Then next week I saw her dad, I held in my tears as I walked toward him, he had a knife in his pocket, but I wasn't afraid anymore. I kicked him in the groin, he reached for his knife, but I grabbed and said:" You're lucky I'm not that crazy." I then cut his arm swiftly, it was bloody and nearly split in two. I gladly never saw him again. From that day on, I started to remember of the times my friend said her father abused her, and a tear would fall, but then I would remember what she use to say to me.

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