Memories

Two

We only realise what we have when it's no longer there.

When we got home from the funeral, everyone went back to their respective rooms. No one felt like talking or caring about anything. Not when a huge burden known as guilt weighed us down.

Alicia had it worst. Her eyes were so swollen from crying and I could see that she was still holding back her tears. I could hardly blame her. After all, she felt the most guilty for leaving you in the room, alone, even if it was only for a few minutes. The expression she had when we were standing outside the room, waiting for the firefighters to clean up the fire had engraved itself inside my brain. She looked devastated.

Erik hadn't uttered a single word since morning. He didn't shed any tears either. He only put on an expressionless face, as usual. He always was the silent one, and preferred to hide everything from us ever since he was young. But I did catch glimpses of him rubbing his eyes furiously throughout the funeral.

But I didn't comfort them.

Because we were all in the same state.

And I knew words meant nothing right then.

I closed the door and walked across the empty room. The tension rolled down my shoulders as I plopped down on the soft bed. It felt welcoming and relaxing. I shut my eyes tight in total exhaustion. My muscles relaxed and finally, I let everything that I had been holding tightly on float away for the first time today.

Maybe I should sleep.

But would I be able to?

I didn't know when my eyes closed and I fell into slumber. I only remembered the soft sounds of the raindrops hitting the ground lulling me to sleep.

It gave off a feeling of solace. For an instant, the world became a soft blur -- no rights or wrongs -- and I melted into it, with everything else slowly disappearing.

I knew your death wasn't a dream. But I wished life could be normal again and my heart would be freed of this heavy, burdening and sinking feeling when I woke up.

Too bad it didn't.

My eyes fluttered open. I turned to the side and spoke without thinking, "Dear, can you help me--" My words got stuck in my throat when I looked across to the other side of the bed.

Empty.

I blinked.

Right.

You couldn't possibly answer me anymore.

I let out a sigh. My half spoken sentence left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. There goes the normal. I got out of bed and went to change.

It was then I realized I couldn't.

My suit wasn't ironed. I couldn't find my tie. And everything was a mess. I ransacked the drawers and rummaged the closet. It wasn't a hard task but I felt so drained, almost as though I had just run a marathon, swum fifteen meters and hiked a mountain, all in one go.

I let out a frustrated groan before I sat down on the floor, giving up.

So heavy. As though shackles constantly tied down my heart and my whole body.

I ran my fingers over my thinning hairs and sighed deeply. The mirror from the closet was right beside me.

I looked worn out and so much older.

And it was only the morning. The first morning without you.

After a long stony silence, I stood up and decided to have breakfast first.

I opened the door.

Then, I saw you.