Roses and Stars

Day 62-

No sign of Aurelia. I’m losing hope now. I don’t think she’s coming back. I wrapped her favourite shawl around my arm. Carefully, I traced my fingers around the intricately woven roses. If it had a scent of her, it would have been gone by now. Sometimes I can pick up a scent. Barely a trace on the wind. And for that one moment she’s here. And she’s smiling that beautiful smile of hers. I guess you never realise the importance of something until you’ve lost it.

Day 63-

Words tower over my head like monsters, and each one drowning me. ‘Dead.’ One word I wish never existed in the dictionary. I keep assuring myself. Maybe she’ll come back. Maybe this time it will be different. But I’m speechless because it’s crazy to think that someone will come back after two months.

Day 64-

Her notebook. It lies in its usual place. The far corner of her room. Dust gathers on it by the minute, but maybe I shouldn’t touch it. There lies her unfinished story, waiting. Just like how my sister couldn’t finish hers.

Day 65-

Her favourite song. Replaying in the back of my mind. It reminds me of her. Soft, delicate notes. Still, I can’t wrap my head around the fact that she’s….moved on. Her bed lies untouched. Silk sheets, and I can spot a few strands of her long chocolatey hair. Everything she owns looks fragile, and don’t want anything to break. Rephrase- Everything she owned.

Day 66-

A small glimmer of light comes from under her door. I open it in haste. Nothing but dread fills the room. I refrain from going in again. I pick up a photo of her and leave. Nostalgia. Her laugh. I hear it. It echoes everywhere. But I ignore the sound. It is best to stay away from things that don’t make you quite as happy.

Day 67-

Can’t enjoy a proper meal. Not without her talking about how her day went. And not without her presence at the table. I bring her chair up to my room, the one she used to sit on. I feel a sense of contentment. Her spirit wanders the room. I feel her all around. Unfortunately it’s not visible to me.

Day 68-

Alone again. Who’s going to cheer me up after school this time?

I kick a pebble on the ground. I tear glides down my cheek. I rub it away. I want to get home as soon as possible.

Day 69-

The car tire is flat. I’m having flashbacks. I walk away from the car and pluck a pretty rose from the garden. So delicate. It reminds me of my sister’s beauty and innocence. A shame that nobody can see it one last time.

Day 70-

I need to accept that the fact that she’s gone.

But maybe she’ll be back. I still have faith in her. But, it’s absurd to expect something like that. 70 days really distances two people.

Nothing lasts forever.

I understand the meaning of the three words.

Day 71-

It’s cold. Winter has arrived and the menacing thought comes back.

‘She’s dead’

I shake my head. Hot cocoa heals everything. It can thaw my frozen heart. I look out the window. I see Aurelia’s shadow. She’s playing in the snow, and she’s wearing her favourite beanie. And it reminds me of how much I miss those times. I mean it when I say this; I would do anything to get her back.

Day 72-

I’m searching something on her laptop.

’Grief is universal and often described as passing through five stages: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.

The last five words blur my mind. I can’t figure out what stage I’m on. And I don’t want to. It’s best to just hope and wait for it all to end.

Day 73-

The weather is getting more harsh. I don’t think even 100 litres of hot cocoa can help me get through this. Wind whistles around the house and pull another wool blanket over my shivering body. But I don’t think I’m cold because of the weather.

Day 74-

It’s freezing out there. A blistering cold gust of wind blew from the east. The radio stopped working and so has the rest of our electronics. Everyone’s confused.

Just like me.

Day 75-

There’s fog everywhere. I can see the garden from my room. I see a red dot. The roses. But they’ve all wilted. And I wish could be able to water them. And so I do. I put on multiple layers of clothing and step out of the house. The watering can is frozen, but I’ve brought some warm water from inside. I do the job in a flash, just so I can get back in and sit in front of the heater. And I wait. But I don’t think those poor roses are going to bloom again. Not after what they’ve been through.

Day 76-

The sun peeks out from behind the clouds after days of gloom. I close my eyes. I don’t want to open them until Spring arrives.

Day 77-

I take a walk. The nearby pond is still a bit chilly but it is warm enough to put my feet in. And I close my eyes.

I hear the birds singing a new melody.

I hear the leaves brushing against each other.

I hear the water splash as I kick my feet.

I hear nature’s music.

The corners of my mouth spread across my face, and I smile. I can’t stop smiling until I get back home.

Day 78-

It’s night time. The stars shine and the moon looks brighter than ever. I remember Aurelia and I used to spot constellations and wish upon shooting stars. I remembered one wish. That I we’d be looking at the same stars wherever we’d be. Whether it’s a million or a billion trillion of them.

Day 79-

Acceptance. I miss her, but she’s here, alive or not, and that’s enough for me. The roses have bloomed, and I realised I was wrong that they wouldn’t. Maybe it’s time to start fresh, like those flowers. It’s amazing how eighteen days can change a person, and in a good way.

Day 80-

I go out to look at the stars again. I realise how this world is too beautiful for anyone to notice. I can picture Aurelia on the other side of the those stars and as she smiles, I know she’s looking at the same ones.

All one billion trillion of them.