Chapter forty-seven – Time Capsule

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-The following day-

I know that it's impossible for someone to get over a death in only twenty-four hours, but I was hoping the pain would have gone just a little, at least. It still feels as if it only just happened; it still feels as if I've only just witnessed it right this second.

I've watched both my parents die ... and I can never un-see that. The ordeal leading up to it has scarred me for life; father looked so scared in his final moments. And the way he spoke to Michael just minutes before he passed away has left an impression on me, too. He told Michael to take care of me ... to treat me right. I could tell Michael was heartbroken by what he saw, and he was extremely brave to respond, too.

Even the numbness hasn't really disappeared, in all honesty. It's still a challenge to even stand up because of the level of grief I'm feeling. But I'm appreciative of how everyone has supported me this past twenty-four hours.

It may seem hard to believe, but I'm still at the mortuary right now. I refused to leave last night, so I ended up falling asleep here. Michael stayed, too; it was actually in his arms that I fell asleep. If I remember right, I was crying, and he took me into his arms to comfort me. That was at around midnight; obviously I was tired, and so I literally cried myself to sleep.

Clover and Reiss left last night, with the logic that I wanted some alone time with Michael and dad. They were right about that.

I'm surprised, though, that the nurses or whoever didn't wake me up and send me home. Perhaps they haven't even come in to check what's happening ... I don't even know.

"We have to leave at some point, sweetheart," Michael tells me, running his fingers through my hair. We're both stood close to where dad is laying; this sight will never leave my head, but I don't want to let go yet.

"I know ... " I sniffle, feeling my eyes well up with tears at the thought of leaving.

"I know it'll be tough, Citria. I know that from experience. But if you stay here for too long, you'll forget all the happy memories and only be left with ... this one." Just by his tone of voice, I can tell he's speaking these suggestions for my own good ... even if they don't feel so good.

"I just don't want to leave! ... " My voice breaks, as my face contorts with emotional pain. My hand grasps a bunch of Michael's shirt, and my fingers curl around it to vent my feelings a little.

"I know you don't, Angel ... But if you let him go, he can finally be at peace. He'll be with your mother, and your brother Andre. Think of how happy that'll make him ... " As I look up at him, he gives me a sweet smile, before kissing the top of my forehead lovingly.

"But he was happy down here; alive ... " I retort painfully, shaking my head in disapproval of the fact he's gone. "E-Everyone in the photo is gone apart from me ... "

"Photo?" Michael cocks an eyebrow, looking down at me. He obviously wants me to elaborate on what I just said.

My lips part to speak, but no words come out initially. Exhaling, I try to explain. "Well ... I found a time capsule in the garden before dad called. It had a lot of stuff in there – and one of them was ... a photo of our family. Dad, mom, Andre ... and me. I said to myself, "Only half the people are still alive in this photo", but now ... I'm the only one left ... "

"Oh." He looks down, a single curl drooping over his forehead. He closes his mouth momentarily, exhaling out his nose like a sigh, before his eyes move up to see me. "That must have been hard to look through ... "

"It was ..." I breathe, shrugging to try and make it seem like nothing.

He furrows his brows lightly in thought, then catches a glance at father. Looking back at me, he voices a suggestion. "How about we go home and make our own time capsule? Perhaps it'll take your mind away from ... this."

My eyes avert to father, who is paler than he was yesterday by now. "I don't want to leave him ... " My voice breaks a little, but I try not to cry again; I've already done enough of that.

"But you have to leave at some point. I think we should go. It's for your own good, sweetheart ... " As I look up at him, he nods assertively, gently guiding me towards my father to say goodbye.

Already feeling the tears in my eyes, I stand over dad, swallowing to compose myself slightly. "Um ... I guess it's time for me to go, daddy. Uh ... " For some reason, these words almost make me cry. "So ... I'll see you ... I don't know. But just know that you're always going to be ... here." My voice gives out by the final word, as I ball my hand into a fist, and press it against my chest, near my heart. My face contorts in emotional agony, as a tear runs down each side of my face. My eyes close, and my head bows a little whilst I regain my composure. Sniffling, I look back up, drying my eyes with the hand that isn't on my chest. "I love you. I love you more than anything that lives ... besides Michael. I love you."

The door to the room opens, revealing a nurse. She gives me a look of curiosity. "Miss Espinosa, how long have you—?"

"We were just leaving, now." Michael answers on my behalf, coming up behind me. He takes a hold of my shoulders, slowly pulling me away from my father as I blow kisses to him.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." I repeat the words as much as possible whilst I have the chance; eventually we're out of the room, and I blow one final kiss, desperately repeating my words. "I love you, daddy. I love you."

The nurse follows us out, stopping us outside the room. "Miss Espinosa, a funeral will need to be organised. We'll run through that information with you, so don't worry. Everyone here is extremely sorry for your loss."

The thought of a funeral just drains me even more. A fatigued sigh passes my lips, as I nod, in attempt to do anything to hurry the conversation along. "Okay. Thank you. And ... I'm sorry for lashing out on some of the nurses and paramedics yesterday. It was just the grief talking ... or, screaming."

"Not to worry, Miss Espinosa. It's very common. Now, it may seem like a terrible time, but we do need to run through the funeral and bereavement part."

"Of course," I frown, following her and Michael down the corridor.

*  *  *

With heads full of funerals and death, Michael and I return home. I've never felt so mentally, emotionally and physically drained in all my life. I don't have the energy to do anything, or say anything, or ... anything else.

"Maybe you should take a nap, Citria." Michael rests his hand against the small of my back, lightly guiding me towards the staircase. "You look so tired. Go get some rest; then we can make the time capsule together when you wake up." Accepting defeat, I simply nod. As I start to walk up the stairs, I feel Michael pull me back. Upon facing him, he softly kisses my mouth, before pulling away. "Remember I love you. And I always will. For forever and a half."

Just hearing these words brings a smile to my face, despite all that has happened. It's been forever since he used our phrase ... and I really needed to be reminded that I'm loved right now; I've felt so lonely, even with Michael, Reiss and Clover by my side.

"I love you too," I answer quietly, my voice hoarse from the shouting and crying I've done lately.

"I'm happy that you're smiling a little. Just go get some sleep now. I'll still be here." He gives me a small closed-mouth smile, rubbing my arm in comfort as I start to ascend the stairs.

Once I'm in our room, I literally fall onto the bed, and due to my lack of energy, I fall asleep in that exact position only minutes later.

-Michael's Point of View-

The past twenty-four hours have been a nightmare, to say the very least. It's so strange knowing that Citria has lost both her parents, like I have. I guess that's going to be common ground to talk on, once she's feeling less numb about all this.

But the way her father spoke to me yesterday is going to stay with me forever. The way he took my hand, and told me to take care of his little girl ... The expression on his face was something I can never forget. Not ever.

Sleeping will do Citria so much good; it made me feel a little fresher when I'd just lost everyone. It doesn't take the pain away, of course ... but it makes you feel a little better, I suppose.

Right now, I'm seeing in her what she probably saw in me back in August; a broken, drained, hurting person with too many emotions to cope with. I'm hoping she deals with this better than I did; she's had to do it before – and rather recently. I've only done it one time, and it all kind of happened at once. Sometimes I can't sleep at night because all I see is ... the lifeless bodies of everyone I ever loved and cared for.

But the time capsule she spoke about is making me curious. What kind of things were in there other than the photo? Perhaps she'll show me once she's woken up again.

Maybe whilst I'm waiting, I can continue working on the broken vase. After all, it's making progress. I'm so anxious to finish it off.

*  *  *

"So, what kind of things do you want to put in the time capsule?" I ask.

Citria looks around the room for inspiration. "Uh ... I don't know. Photos ... or small objects ... "

In case it wasn't obvious, we've been needing some ideas of what to put in our new time capsule. Citria suggested we both write a letter and place it in, which I thought was nice. Perhaps we could do that as a basis.

"Maybe we could write the letters," I offer, just to avoid going any longer with no ideas.

"Uh ... yeah. That works." She flashes a brief smile, before grabbing some paper and pens from the next room. When she returns, she hands me a pen, and some paper. "Go for it."

"Thanks." To lighten the mood, I smile wider than she did, to show I'm appreciative of her.

And then, I start writing my letter.

Future Michael,

Who knows whether you'll read this letter. Hopefully you will. But anyway, this is twenty-nine-year-old Michael, from November 22, 1987. I'm just writing a short letter to my future self, I guess.

What do I think will happen in 1997, or even 2002, in fifteen years? I can't really answer with certainty. But I'd like to hope I'm married to the love of my life, and perhaps have children to call my own. I might have a job, or maybe I won't. Who knows? It's a mystery, I guess.

I hope I'm coping better with the loss of all my family by then, though. It's super hard right now, so I hope it improves as time goes on.

Right now, there are only three other people in my life, because the fourth – my girlfriend's father – sadly passed away yesterday. But right now, I have Clover – my girlfriend's cousin; Reiss – my uncle; and Citria – my girlfriend. They've all helped me to cope these past few months, really. We've all developed such a strong connection with each other.

Perhaps it isn't the best thing to write in a letter, but right now we're all trying to move away. Uncle Reiss' old best friend Marco – who is Citria's long-lost uncle – is trying to get us. I'm so scared for that. Seriously ... real scared. I hope by by the time I read this letter, whether it be 1997 or 2002, he'll be behind bars, or even dead. Just ... out of our lives.

I want to make this positive, now. Apart from what's happening with Marco, and the grief of losing Citria's father (and all my family), everything else is okay. I have a loving girlfriend, a caring uncle, and a wonderful friend in Clover. I didn't even expect that much, but I'm glad I have them.

So now, I don't know what else to write. Have fun reading this in the future, Michael.

Peace. :)

Having finished my letter, I fold it, and place it in an envelope, before setting it down in the time capsule. Citria looks up, frowning a little. "We aren't reading them to one another?"

"They're to read in ten or fifteen years. We can wait," I chuckle.

She shrugs, quickly dismissing the subject, and proceeds to complete her letter. She finishes writing hers a few minutes after me, placing it in the capsule once she's folded it and enveloped it. As she turns to look at me, she gives an unsure expression. "So ... what now?"

"Uh ... do you have any objects that you don't mind missing for ten to fifteen years?" I question, trying to add a hint of playfulness to my tone to lighten the mood.

She takes a moment to think, leaning herself against the statue that once held the old time capsule. "Uh ... I could put a photo of all of us in. You know ... Clover; Reiss; you; me; dad ... "

"We have a photo all together?" I ask, furrowing my brows a little. "When did we take that picture?"

"It was a while back ... I think before Marco came here. At father's house. How can you not remember?" Her tone doesn't appear to have much emphasis within it; she's probably hurting from talking about her father.

"Oh ... I-I do remember," I answer, nodding to support my statement. "So ... yeah, we can put that photo in the capsule."

"Okay. I'll go get it." She leaves the garden, entering the house; about two minutes later she comes out the house, holding the photo in her hand. "Got it," she murmurs, placing it in the box.

I'm pretty sure she spent a moment looking at the photo again, to capture the moment and relive it, a little.

"It's a lovely photo," I comment softly, taking it from her once she has offered it to me. "Our little ... gang, I suppose."

"Our gang is a member less now," Citria says. And just by the way she says it, I can sense her voice is breaking, and she's on the verge of tears.

"Come here, sweetheart," I demand quietly, pulling her into my arms just as she begins to sob. Without saying a word, I cuddle her, rocking us side to side to calm her down. Due to my height, I'm able to kiss the top of her forehead, and I let the kiss linger a few seconds before pulling away. "I've got you. I've got you."

With pain and sympathy in my heart, I continue to rock her gently in my arms. She doesn't deserve this. None of us deserve this.

When will this end?

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So, I've had this chapter written for months and months. Turns out I've not updated in seven months. How? How! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!