Chapter forty-eight – We're Living For Them

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November 26, 1987

-Citria's Point of View-

After finishing the time capsule a few days ago, Michael and I decided it would be a nice idea to have a little "Life Party" for everyone that's been lost this year. That not only includes both my parents, but his entire family, too. It'll be an emotional, yet beautiful event ... even if it'll only have four guests. You could say it's not really a party; it's more of a little get-together between four people.

Reiss and Clover are coming over a little later on, so Michael and I have been preparing a few snacks for when they arrive. The grief from losing my father is still killing me, but Michael has helped to numb the pain a little. He's been trying to make me smile more than usual, which is really sweet of him to do. I'm glad I have a man as wonderful as him.

To be honest though, I'm still worried about him. He's not spoken about his own family for quite a while now. I'm beginning to wonder whether or not he's trying to bottle it up inside; if that's the case, then he's doing himself no good. It'll eventually make his mental and emotional health deteriorate, and I really don't want that to happen.

But right now, everything seems to be ... manageable, I suppose. It'll never be easy having no parents on either mine or Michael's parts, but we have enough people around us to know we aren't alone. It helps to have one another, as well.

Clover and Reiss are set to come at 4:00pm, and right now it's 12:36pm. We still have quite some time before they arrive. More than enough time to finish the snacks, and perhaps relax a little.

"Let me just take the cupcakes out of the oven, Michael," I say, slipping past him as he arranges individual slices of mixed-berry pie on a pretty rack.

He was the one who wanted to have the pie; I don't blame him in all honesty. After all, it's what his mother used to cook for him.

"Yes! The edible angels are back!" he grins, turning around and removing all attention from his pie; instead watching me with an unfaltering eye.

"You like the cupcakes, huh?" I chuckle softly, sliding them out of the oven, and setting them on the side. "Well, you can't have any until later."

He slowly moves his hand towards the tray that contains the cake. "I just wanna try one—"

"No!" I playfully slap his hand away, giving him a glare of mock disapproval.

"Oaw!" he hisses, gently rubbing the hand I hit with his other, non-stinging hand. "That happened to hurt, Miss Espinosa."

"Did it?" I frown, coming opposite him and sticking my bottom lip out, as if feeling sorry for him. "Isn't that a shame?"

His expression changes to match mine, as a small pout forms on his lips. "Yeah. Is she going to kiss it better?"

"You wish I was going to," I tease, beginning to walk away from him. When I turn my head, I see that he's got the most adorable forlorn face, which can't help but tug at my heart. "Aww! Stop being so cute, Michael!" I cry, walking back towards him. "You know I love you too much to say no to you." Taking his hand, I kiss his knuckles gently, looking up at him. "You can try a cupcake if you want."

A subtle smirk plays on his lips as he shakes his head. "Nah; I can wait three and a half hours. Besides, they'd be too hot to touch right now." His non-injured hand briefly caresses my cheek in appreciation of my offer, but then he goes back to arranging his pie. "Do you like this? Does it look good?"

Coming up behind him, I can't help but allow myself to embrace him from behind; and I look over his shoulder to see what he's doing. "Very nice, Mr Jackson. The arranging is fabulous," I comment jokily.

He nods, seemingly impressed at his own handy work. "I agree. The time and effort put into making this look perfect is extensive."

"You spent a whole three minutes on it," I correct him, shaking my head in amusement. "Honestly; you need to learn to keep track of time."

He scowls at me, trying to remain serious, though struggling. "I can keep track of the time completely fine!" he argues, folding his arms in disagreement. "Just because you don't see my skills in action, that doesn't mean they don't exist."

"Uh-huh. Sure," I agree sarcastically, rolling my eyes upwards. "Anyway, now we've finished up with preparations, we can do something else."

"Like what?" Michael cocks an eyebrow, glancing at me as if waiting for my answer.

"Well ... I don't know. Dad's funeral isn't far away, and I haven't written his speech yet. I have to do that at some point; I might as well start now." My eyes move upwards, looking at him. "Help me?"

He nods, guiding me gently out the room by the small of my back. "Of course. Don't even question it."

* * *

"Start with a little introduction about him," Michael advises me, his eyes following every single move my hand makes with the pen. "Just say what kind of person he was; stuff like that."

"Okay. That should be easy," I comment, writing a few words down about my brave, wonderful, hero of a father. He really means the world to me.

"Uh ... okay. Write down a few of your best memories. The ones you told me when you and I first met. The roller discos and the childhood stuff." As I lift my head to briefly look at him, he gives a mellow smile, as if to say 'I'm supporting you'.

"Alright." As I'm writing the words down, my mind plays back the memories, creating vivid pictures of the happy times when we used to do things together as a family. One big, happy family.

-Flashback – August 12, 1973-

"Andre, stick close to Citria!" father called, laughing as he watched us wobbling on the roller skates at the roller disco. "Don't fall!"

"I won't daddy!" my fresh-faced little brother giggled joyfully, grasping bundles of my shirt for support. "This is so fun!"

My mother sat down on the bench by father, and they both watched as my brother and I slowly slid around the dance floor to the music. It sure was a lot of fun! I'd easily have done it all night, if I knew there was no bedtime.

"Andre, do you want to try skating without holding on to me?" I asked softly, lightly caressing his sweet locks of hair with my fingers. My little brother really meant the entire world to me.

He nodded reluctantly, gradually letting go of my shirt. He slowly began to glide away from me, almost falling at first; but with me by his side for safety, he knew he'd be okay. And so, he went a little faster, trusting me to remain behind him. And I did; I stayed there for him.

As we both went around the floor, I couldn't help but take in my surroundings. Being only eleven years old, I was curious about everything and anything around me. I saw teenagers kissing in the dark corners of the building; I saw young children with their parents buying drinks from the vending machine; I saw groups of girls dancing together at the centre of the room.

There were also a few boys there, all looking similar. Normally, the appearance of a group didn't bother me, but for some reason these boys stuck out to me. They all had darker skin, and little afros that matched one another's. I'd never seen them around before, so perhaps they were new to these parts.

"Boys! Time to go home," the mother called them.

Most of them went instantly, but one stayed where he was. He was sat on one of the benches, seeming to be taking in his surroundings as I was. His eyes made brief contact with me, but it was broken when the father of the boy called.

"Michael, it's time to go home!"

The boy, Michael, looked behind him to see his family waiting for him. He stood up and left with his brothers and parents, which brought me back to reality.

"Look Cit! I'm doing it by myself!" Andre squealed excitedly as he skated around me in circles at a quick pace.

"Wow; looks like you are!" I answered enthusiastically, clapping my hands in praise. "Good job, Andre!" A large smile formed on my face at the sight; it was great seeing him happy after all he was going through.

-End of flashback-

Now I look back on that day, I realise that the boy I made eye contact with was the man I call "boyfriend" right now. It's crazy how I didn't realise that sooner. But reliving the memory was nice; I was thinking it would be sad, but it wasn't.

"You've been quiet for quite some time. Are you alright?" Michael asks me, bringing my mind back to present day.

As I look at him, I can't help but make note of how much he's changed since that first day I saw him. No wonder I didn't recognise him when we met back in August; his Vitiligo and hairstyle change have made him look rather different.

"N—Yeah, I'm fine. Just reliving the memories a little, I suppose." A small smile makes an appearance, but quickly fades. "I really need to finish this off."

"Well, you better hurry," Michael snickers, checking the time. "Clover and Reiss will be here soon."

* * *

"Hey guys; come in." Opening the door wider, I allow Clover and Reiss to enter the house.

"How have you been lately?" Clover asks politely, obviously trying not to sound too sympathetic or pitiful.

"I've been okay, I guess. It's still sort of new," I answer honestly, shrugging it off with a smile. "Anyway, how are you guys?"

"We're not too bad either," Reiss responds. "Thanks for inviting us over, though."

"It's nothing." Just as I finish speaking, Michael enters the hallway where the rest of us are.

"Hey guys," he grins, bringing both of them into a hug in turn.

"Hey Michael," Clover replies, a closed-mouth smile tugging at her lips.

"Should we go to the living room?" I invite sweetly, gesturing with my hand towards the door beside me.

"Yes, of course," Michael intervenes, guiding the others there. As he passes me, he kisses my nose quickly. "This evening will be real nice, sweetheart."

"I hope so," I sigh, as if already exasperated. With that being said, I join them in the living room, clasping my hands together. "So, I thought we could help ourselves to some of the snacks we prepared, and then we could share a few memories of those we've lost this year."

"Good idea," Reiss smiles, nodding in agreement.

"Yeah," Clover adds, grinning sweetly to establish her approval.

"Alright. I'll just bring everything in." Leaving the room, I grab the trays of cupcakes, pie and other snacks, before setting them down on the coffee table in the living room. "Here. It's not much, but it'll do, I hope."

"It's lovely," Reiss assures me, taking a cupcake and unwrapping it. He takes a bite, before looking up at me. "My God; these are great!" he gasps. Before speaking again, he allows himself to swallow. "Did you make these, Citria?"

"She sure did!" Michael interrupts, taking a cupcake for himself. "They're edible angels. I've always said that." Biting into his cake, he tosses his head back. "Yeah. That's the stuff."

"I'm glad you like my cupcakes," I chuckle, taking one for myself. "But Michael and I made mixed-berry pie, too. It was one of his mother's specialities."

"It sure was. Though, Citria's mixed-berry pie is pretty perfect, too," Michael evaluates playfully. He sits back on his chair, allowing himself to get comfortable. "So ... does anybody want to share any words for anyone they've loved and lost?"

"Me," Clover says, almost appearing to regret it right after. "I mean, she didn't die this year, but she ... she's gone, too."

"Aunt Pertunia," I guess in a whisper to myself.

Clover hears me, and nods. "Yes. My mother was ... everything to me. Just like everyone else's mother is to them. Citria understands what it's like to lose a mother, and so does Michael. Hell; we all do. And it's hard. Really, really hard. I remember a lot about my mom; she was a lovely, beautiful person ... just like Aunt Tiannah."

"My mother," I state proudly, smiling through the emotion I'm feeling.

"We lost our parents too soon. All of us did. Everyone sitting in this room right now. But that shouldn't lessen our smiles. We should think that they want us to be happy with the life we have, even if it isn't much. Because we all have a lot to smile about. We have friends, cousins, uncles and partners. We're all connected in some way. We all love one another. We'll never part from one another. We may face tough times, but we won't let that lessen our smiles. We're ... We're fighters."

"I couldn't agree more," I add, smiling at her. "And we all have to stick together through the tough times. Now we've lost my father, we need to work even harder. Marco is trying to get to us one at a time. He's taken everyone else ... but he won't take us. We're the fighters. We're the only ones left to represent the Jacksons and the Espinosas. That's it; just four of us."

"Citria's right," Michael agrees, speaking up at last. "Everyone we've lost would want us to stick together and fight for them and their legacy. We aren't living just for us any more; we're living for them. For our parents; and our siblings; and our aunts and uncles; and our cousins; and anyone else. We're living ... because they can't."

"Michael, your mom and dad would be so proud of you if they could see you. And Citria, I know that your parents would be, too." Reiss turns his head to look at Clover, and takes her hand in his. "And you, Clover. Pertunia would be extremely proud of you."

"And what about you, Uncle Reiss?" Michael questions sadly. "Grandma and grandpa would be proud to have you as their son, too."

"I'd like to think all of our parents are proud of us," he states, sighing softly. "And I hope Astrix is doing okay, too. My little boy."

"My cousin," Michael mutters under his breath.

"Because although he's one of the main causes of everyone's deaths, he was still my son. And I miss him ... so much." For only the second time ever, I see Reiss begin to show distress over the loss of those he loves. His eyes fill with tears, and he covers his face to hide it.

"Uncle Reiss," Michael frowns, walking over to him and embracing him tightly.

The sight of Michael and Reiss crying together is easily enough to choke myself up, as well as Clover. We both decide to join the embrace, and we group hug together.

As much as it's difficult dealing with the loss of multiple people, it's admittedly a little easier when you have other people by your side who know exactly what you're going through.

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Chapter forty-eight! I got a little emotional about three quarters of the way through writing this. x(
Hope you enjoyed this chapter! :)