It was nearly midnight when all the people who came to the funeral left, except for David. He stayed back as it pained him to leave his nephew, Maddox, alone amidst the four walls of his house, each holding memories of his deceased mother.

Mr Howard did not come back home after the funeral. He left the cemetery along with the young woman in the red car he used to drive. Their closeness was intriguing. People were making up their own ideas about the relationship shared by Mr Howard and the young woman until Mrs Martha, the old lady living in the neighbourhood, claimed that she knew who that woman was.

"Come on, don't make up stories. That woman is Miss Lydia Robert! Evan works for her as a driver. She is just his boss! Nothing more!" said an infuriated Mrs Martha in response to the remarks made by some of the persons present.

Maddox felt quite relieved by Mrs Martha's clarification as he was himself feeling uneasy looking at his dad hanging around with that unknown woman and leaving along with her while his wife just passed away.

Maddox wrongly thought that his dad would at least stay at home with him on that painful night. But, he left him all alone to deal with that unceasing grief.

Maddox sat on the living room couch watching the clock tick midnight. The house was drown in complete silence, the only sounds being heard were the ticking of the clock and his heartbeats. From time to time, a drop of tear would escape his eyes and he knew that this would probably be the case for the rest of his life. The pain of losing his mother would never fade away.

When Elisa was gone, Miranda held Maddox's hands, pulling him out of his depression. She had promised to be there for him always. She swore that she would stay by his side forever. But the truth is that, no matter how much sincerity we hold in our hearts, no matter how much we mean each of our words, some promises are meant to be broken.

"Hey Maddox, aren't you feeling sleepy?" David asked as he entered the living room.

"No, uncle. I'm not feeling sleepy. You go and sleep. I will stay here for some more time," Maddox replied, rubbing his itchy and painful eyes.

"Don't rub your eyes like this my boy, they might get infected," David warned. "And I guess it will be good if you try to get some sleep. I really don't want you to fall ill."

"Please don't worry uncle, I'm okay," Maddox insisted although he knew that David was not convinced.

Maddox was kind of afraid to spend the night in his room. He knew that the memorable moments spent with his mum would haunt him. He would remember how his mother spent days and nights trying to help him out of his pain after his twin sister died. His room would remind him of all the happy and sad moments he lived along with his mother - the storytelling nights, the birthday and several other moments.

"My boy, your mother would hate to see you in this state. Hmmmm... let's assume she is somewhere around and watching us. She would be furious at me for not taking enough care of his beloved son!" David exclaimed, trying to find the best words to coax Maddox.

At these words, Maddox stood up from the couch and walked to his room. He did not want to trouble his uncle anymore. He knew that David was trying his best to support him when his own father did not even hug him once during his miserable days.

"Uncle, you may also sleep in my room. 'Cause I don't know how dad will react if ever he comes back home and finds you in his room," Maddox explained.

"Hmmmm... that's right," David agreed.

Both uncle and nephew climbed on bed wishing each other 'good night' although these words sounded like some sarcasm. Maddox closed his eyes in search of some sleep. But he could not. His head was aching and the sharp pain in his chest felt like he was being stabbed there. He sat on his bed, trying to figure out what he could do to spend that night which seemed to be endless. He stretched his left arm to reach his school bag which was lying on the floor by his bed. He opened it and took out his diary as he wanted to see the photo of his mum stuck in it.

The room was completely dark. Maddox could not see properly. He did not want to switch on the lights as this would prevent his uncle from falling asleep. He squinted his eyes to see his mother's face but in vain. He then remembered that he had a small electric torch which was gifted to him by his classmate. He rummaged through his bag and found it in his pencil case.

As the bright light hit Miranda's photo, Maddox tried to stifle his sobs. He stared at her for minutes, caressing her face. Then, he flipped through the pages and stopped at a particular one. His mother's handwriting made his heart skip a beat. His eyes remained glued to the page where his mother once wrote him some words. He recalled how he insisted for his mum to write in his brand new diary.

That day, Miranda got a diary as end of year gift from the corner shop where she used to buy groceries. Upon reaching home, she gave the diary to Maddox who was six at that time. It was a few months after Elisa's death. Miranda thought that Maddox would be glad to have something to scribble on. As soon as Maddox got it, he stuck a photo of Miranda in it and wrote beneath "My New Bestie". He then rushed back to the kitchen, holding a pen and the diary. He asked Miranda to write a few lines for him.

"But baby, you can barely read at this age," Miranda said as she was busy cooking dinner.

"I will read it when I grow up Momma!" the little boy exclaimed cheerfully.

That evening Miranda wrote some advices in the little diary but Maddox never went through them until this night when his mother was gone.

While he read the lines, he felt like he was hearing his mother's voice reading them to him.

"My dear son, the greatest handicap in life is to have a heart which cannot love, a brain which lacks good thoughts and a soul which cannot forgive.

My dear son, always remember that, to give love is more important than to receive it. If each person thought the same way, each of us would love and be loved.

My dear son, knowledge and love are things which never decrease when shared. The more you share, the more you receive.

My dear son, whenever you pray, ask God to give you patience. Ask Him to give you resilience.

Don't only ask Him to remove the difficulties from your life, but rather ask Him to make you stronger after each difficulty.

Ask Him to help you stand up each time you fall.

Ask Him to make of you a resilient soul.

My dear son, some people say 'All women are the same' while others claim that 'All men are the same'. Son, when you grow up, be such a good man that people will start saying 'ALL MEN ARE NOT THE SAME.'"