Chapter 8

Life was at the toughest period; it was almost a week I was mourning for her. The darkness of the room was the only thing I got a habitat for. Everything lost its meaning at once, nothing made sense anymore even I couldn’t figure what I was feeling. I didn’t know if I was sad for losing her, was feeling regret for not telling her my feelings when I had the time or hurt because she hid everything from me. Maybe I had mixed feelings. For days the only interesting thing was the ceiling above my head, I was staring at it blankly all the time. Sleep wasn’t a choice either, every time I closed my eyes she would appear in my vision and the little amount of sleep I was getting was all filled with her dreams. 

The day I returned back from the garden I locked myself in my room not getting out once nor I visited Miss Louisa after that day. Dad would have always made sure she was ok but me… I couldn’t manage to even face her. Papa was getting worried but never dragged me out of my room or forced me into behaving normally. In a way both of us were passengers of the same boat. He knew better how painful it is when someone loses their love. We both had the same grief.

One of those days there was a knock on my bedroom door as usual. It was my father, but instead of asking about my well-being he informed me that Miss Louisa was waiting for me in the living room. Per fathers request I got out of the room to meet her, entering the living room I greeted her to which she returned it with a hug. Her mother was kind and caring just like her. She was looking exhausted when I had a look at her face, eyes puffy and red and her slender form was thinner than before. 

“How are you doing son?” She asked. It was funny how we all asked each other how we were doing when none of us were doing fine. 

Not speaking my mind out, I just nod to her question. When I didn’t answer she looked worriedly at my dad. Even though she recently lost her daughter she was still concerned about me. 

“I know you’re hurting Axel but… if crying and mourning could bring her back to us I would have never stopped crying in my lifetime. I'm a mother who puts her baby to sleep forever in her own embrace. I know it's hard but still we have to live, don’t do this to yourself. She never wanted to see you like this, that’s why she didn’t tell you anything.” Miss Louisa’s words create a painful lump in my throat, my eyes tear up but I swallow the cry that wanted to tear out of my throat. That was the only reason I didn’t want to face her. 

“But she left this for you.” She took out a wooden box from her bag extending it toward me. A part of me wanted to know about the content of the box but another part of me didn’t want to know what was inside it, just for the sake of keeping my broken soul from shattering completely. 

With a shaky hand I reached out, taking the wooden box from her. I didn’t wait anymore and left for my room taking the wooden box with myself. I couldn’t open it immediately. For hours I was looking at it, reaching out to open it but every time retrieving my hand back, not having the courage to see what was inside. For days I was only staring at the box from afar till I decided to open it. I wanted to know what she left inside that wooden material.

The first thing that caught my attention was the black rectangular shape box with a black ribbon on it. Inside the black box there was a fountain pen laid on silky black cloth with my name engraved on the cover. Inside the lid it was written with the golden color ‘Happy Graduation’. It was an early gift for my graduation. A clog forms in my throat restraining each breath. She knew she wouldn't make it but she never gave-up even when she left she thought about everything upfront. Putting the lid back I put it on my study desk beside the USB drive which was another content of the box.

Beneath the gift box there was a white paper folded properly; definitely a letter. Unfolding the paper, I inhale a big amount of air filling my lungs, getting myself ready to read whatever was written on that white piece of paper. In weeks I was feeling totally numb but the content of the box was tugging at each string of my heart twisting it painfully. Before I start reading what was written in that paper. I always thought about her, every second of the day. Not a single tear dropped from my eyes, I didn’t cry in all those weeks as much I cried after reading her letter, my tears were falling on their own. All that bottled up pain and sorrow was coming out as fat tears. I cried that day non-stop, for her, for myself, for our love.