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[color=D11717][i]¿Por qué todo me falta?
No me alcanzan las ganas de vivir.
Aunque todo lo intento, yo no entiendo: ¿por qué no estás aquí?
Aunque nada es eterno o perfecto, tú lo eres para mi.
Te necesito, porque sin ti no sé vivir[/i][/color][/center]
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[indent]While some of his other classmates rejoiced in excitement and anticipation at the arrival of the first day of their senior year, Santiago Fernández was definitely not part of the club. In fact, the Diablo everybody knew and loved -or, in some cases, hated with a passion- hadn’t been the same for some time now. The moment he’d gotten that call from home, his world had come crashing down, sending him on a downward spiral of sadness that didn’t seem to have an end. 

[i]“Santiago… Mi amor... Abuela Rosalba se nos fue…”[/i]

The brutal words that had come from the lips of his mother still stung as much as the first time he’d heard them. His beloved grandmother had passed away: his fiercest protector, the woman who’d raised him with nothing but love and patience and given him the world and more from the moment he’d been born. Hell, his parents had even named him after her maiden name, unbeknownst to just how deep the bond between grandmother and grandchild would be. To think that he would no longer hear the sweetness in her loving voice, feel the warmth of her kiss on his forehead, the gentle touch of her wrinkled skin on his own… It tore his already broken heart into a million different pieces just thinking about it.

From the moment of her diagnosis, Rosalba’s health had declined at a dishearteningly rapid pace. Diablo had wanted to fly back home immediately when he heard the news, but his parents were concerned about him losing the semester, which resulted in what was possibly the biggest fight he’d had with them yet. In the end, Manuel and Gabriela had won, so it was only after his semester was over that Santiago was able to be on the first flight back to Puerto Rico.

The moment he saw his once strong and mighty grandmother lying crippled on that hospital bed, the boy who hadn’t cried in ten years broke down in a series of heart-wrenching sobs. But once he’d pulled himself together, the young man never left Rosalba’s side, making it his burden to care for her as best as he could. Diablo’s friends -old and new- had tried reaching out in various ways, hoping to distract him from what was happening even if just for ten minutes. But it had all been in vain: Santiago had his full attention on his grandmother, and that wouldn’t be changing anytime soon. He was scared of leaving her side, afraid that if he was away for a single second his biggest fear would become a reality. And, alas, he’d been right. He’d gone back to the place he was staying at only to take a shower and head right back to the hospital when he’d gotten the call from his mother to break the news.

It was now officially a month since Rosalba’s death, and Diablo was nowhere near the path of healing.

When he finally mustered up the strength to get up from bed, Santiago went through the motions in silence: the shower, the teeth brushing, the grooming, the getting dressed and heading down to the kitchen. His mother received him with a warm smile and a tight hug, excited about her youngest son starting his senior year and announcing she’d made his favorite breakfast in celebration. And even though the young man was far from hungry, he put up his best fake smile and powered through. He kept up the charade for as long as he could, attempting to convince Gabriela and himself that life was going on as usual. But when the older woman mentioned with tears in her eyes just how proud Rosalba would be of him, Diablo knew it was time to go. 

He’d gotten up from the kitchen table, put up his bravest face and consoled his beautiful mother. When he was sure she would be okay, Santiago hugged her tightly, kissed her goodbye before grabbing the keys to his Lambo and heading to the garage. In the comfort and safety of his car, Diablo’s mask threatened to fall off. He began to hyperventilate, afraid of breaking down again. So he did what he thought would be the his saving grace: he pulled out his phone and sent out a quick text to his best friend.

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Diablo prayed with all his might that she would take him up on his offer. The pills in his Louis Vuitton bag were looking more and more inviting by the minute, but he’d be damned before he resorted to them to the suffocating pain away.[/indent]