I awakened something inside of Piper. That much I knew. Was I scared? Maybe a little, for his sake, but I knew that he was better off. It was so apparent now that I had to protect him from Jacob. Now that the abuses had escalated, I couldn’t be a bystander.

Still, I smiled politely, standing near the door as Jacob gathered his speech papers for his funeral. We both looked at each other intensely. I’m pretty sure my eyes were as fiery red as his, but if he ever wanted a scuffle, he’d go down in an instant.

I wasn’t a fighter when I didn’t have to be, but I could take a punch. The afflicted needed a voice, and they didn’t have one in this fucked up and backward place. Well, if I could be a voice for Piper, I would. But I was also going to let him find his own.

“After you,” I said, opening the door.

“No, I insist,” Jacob said.

I rolled my eyes and pushed past him. I didn’t care for these petty games. No one would come out victorious if I kept engaging. Plus, I was soon to be outnumbered.

Even though this was my father’s funeral, no one was treating it like it was. When I first arrived at Jacob’s house, a few people gave me their condolences, but ever since that night, I hadn’t heard one thing.

It was fine. I didn’t want their faux empathy. I bore my own tragedy in my own way, and I didn’t need their help through it. The only person I cared about was Piper, and he had already comforted me in every way possible.

In the car, we sat silently. I sat in the back as Piper sat in the front passenger seat. The drive was quiet and a little bit eerie. I had a lot on my mind, I guess. I wanted to honor my father in the best way I could, but I had a lot of pain in my heart about him.

In the end, I knew that everyone had their own path. They followed by the examples they were given. Now that my father was gone, I felt like it was time to start letting go of the burden that a family can pass on to you.

The cycle of hurt and pain ended with him. I decided that on this trip back home. However, the community here wasn’t going to give up their crazy ideas. They would fight for what they thought was right. That was fine because I knew that their lifestyle wasn’t sustainable. I just had to find a way to get Piper out of here safely.

From the front, piper slid his hand silently back through the crease of the seat and the door. I quickly took his fingers into mine, squeezing three times. “I love you.”

We let go out of fear that Jacob might see. Luckily, he didn’t. He pulled into the old church parking lot. Slowly, one by one, the people filtered out of their cars. I turned to Piper and said, “You guys go. I need to take a second to myself.”

“Are you sure?” Piper asked.

Jacob kept walking. “He’s sure, honey,” he said. Honey.

Piper’s eyelids weighed heavily. He didn’t want to follow his shitty boyfriend into the church, but he basically had to obey his orders. “It’s okay,” I mouthed.

I could sense that all eyes of the community were on me. I was the reject, the one who left them. Well, that was all fine and dandy, but this was my father’s funeral. I hated that it was such a spectacle.

Instead of walking inside, I walked over to the side of the church. Behind the building was a small green patch of land, unkempt and grown out. I walked over and sat down, letting the blades surround me.

I closed my eyes and breathed calmly, waiting for something, anything, to give me clarity. A rustle of wind ran against the trees, but that was it. The world didn’t provide answers in the way we expected. Sometimes, we just had to trust that there was a good end to all of this, a just end.

My father wasn’t a just man, but he was a man nonetheless. He deserved a eulogy, at the very least. If I was the one giving the speech, those are the words I would have said. But I wasn’t. Jacob was that man.

“I’ll miss you, dad,” I whispered. Maybe I was crazy to think that, but I would miss him. There were good things about him too. I remembered the way he laughed, the way he smelled like old cigars, and the way he would talk so passionately to me about current events.

Even in his strictness, he was inspiring in some ways. I think I inherited some of that spirit, but I tried to put it to better use.

The problem was that my omega father died when I was young. I was so young that I didn’t even remember it. Still, I knew that affected my dad. It made him bitter and angry. It made him hate the world.

If Piper died, I might have turned into the same man as my father. Maybe I would have started my own propaganda campaign to end alpha-omega marriages. Who knows?

I tried not to blame people, but when I walked into the church, no one said a word to me. Instead of being stoned to death, I was shunned. I sat next to Piper and whispered, “What the fuck is going on? Why is everyone treating me like a leper?”

“I told you. Talk spreads fast,” Piper whispered.

“Jesus,” I whispered, shaking my head.

My eyes scanned the altar, and I saw the cross. I wasn’t religious at all, but damn, these people could use some humility in their lives. Ironically, they were the exact opposite of their heroes.

I felt a piece of paper hit the back of my head. That’s when I really started to regret coming back. I turned around to find the culprit. I knew that it was intentional, but I couldn’t tell who it was.

I took the scrunched up ball of paper and unraveled it. Piper’s worried eyes scanned the penciled words: “Fuck off and leave.”

I wish I could have controlled myself at that moment, but it hurt too badly. I started to cry. I was usually so strong around these people, but those words were so powerful, and so hurtful, that it broke me.

Then, the laughter started. At first, it was a few giggles in the back row. Then, it filtered through the accompanied rows, one by one. Pretty soon, the whole place was trying not to snicker.

I hung my head in shame. Absolute shame. I bit down hard on both sides of the inside of my cheeks to try and distract myself from the pain. It didn’t work.

Finally, Piper took my hand secretly. “Don’t listen to them. They’re pathetic. They’re not even fools. You know why?” he asked.

“No. Why?” I asked him.

“Because they’re not going anywhere. They’re not learning anything. They’re just stale pond scum,” Piper said.

Somehow, his words made me snort with laughter. “Pond scum, huh,” I said. “They do look kind of like pond scum.”

“They do,” Piper said. “And they are.”

He let my hand go as Jacob walked down the aisle, hands shaking his notes. He was acting like this was his big, life debut, and I guess it was in a way. This place didn’t have a lot to look forward to except death and extinction.

He trembled up to the altar and cleared his throat. “Please be seated,” Jacob said.

The people looked at him like he was their leader. That type of gleam in people’s eyes had always scared me. From musicians to politicians to community leaders, it was hard for me to trust power and authority. But maybe that was because my dad hit me enough times to teach me the truth.

“What goes on behind closed doors is for God’s eyes to see,” Jacob said. “And his eyes only. Is it not?”

I grimaced and widened my eyes. Was he really saying that? And the people just grinned with adoration and respect. They ate it up.

“Behind Gregory’s doors was strife, struggle, and it was rife with abomination,” Jacob continued. You got that right, I thought. “But that, of course, wasn’t Gregory’s fault. You can’t make another human being follow the truth.”

Oh fuck. Fuckity fuck, fuck, fuck! Jacob’s speech had already sunk in. He wrote this about me. The whole town was laughing at me, even in the damn eulogy!

“So, now we gather here to honor a man of dignity and respect. He was a man who taught us all how to live. But our job here isn’t finished,” Jacob said, glaring at me. My eyes fell to the floor.

Jacob continued his poisonous speech, slamming his fist against the altar. “Our job is to spread our knowledge, our influence to every school in this state. But how can we do that when we have members of our community spreading the opposite of what we believe in?”

Jacob paused to look into the audience, eyes squinting harshly. His chest was pumping, heart racing noticeably. After he calmed down a bit, the audience was ready to go wild with praise. I was prepared to leave this town. It was clear that my time here was coming to an end.

“We are not the ones to blame,” Jacob said. “Unlike those who choose to leave, we forgive.”

I had enough “Bullshit,” I said.

Every second growing up in this town was torture. My father, rest his soul, never forgave me. When I would call, he would hang up the phone. Any letter that I wrote was sent back to my flat. Nobody in this town forgave those who turned their backs on their “vision.”

“Excuse me?” Jacob asked. All eyes turned on me. I was ready for the crowd to attack. They were out for blood.

I glanced at Piper. He hadn’t distanced himself from me, even though I knew I was putting him in danger. Instead, he stood up, trembling. “He’s right,” he said. “You are talking about forgiveness, but you have none.”

Piper’s extreme act of courage surprised me, but it gave me all the strength I needed. I placed my boots on the seat and stood up. “I don’t care what you say. I knew my father better than any of you,” I said. “And while I loved him, he was also a violent man. I took abuse all of my life, and not one of you came to my aid. Maybe I would have stayed if you weren’t all lying through your teeth.”

I knew my words wouldn’t sink into their heads. They had no outside experience with the rest of the world. All they had were their leaders, the ones who let them down. Now, looking at their hardened faces, I had given up all hope.

“Never mind. No change will come from this. Rest in peace, father,” I said, glancing at the casket.

I turned and walked out of the chapel, but not before looking back at Piper’s vexed face. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’ll be alright. Go.”

I left, but I had nowhere to go, except Jacob’s home. I knew that there would be hell to face, but I didn’t realize just how bad it would be.

Hours later, I would find out. I was enemy number one, and Piper would be forced to be their scapegoat.