It's hard to forget the smiles of the people you love. It's even harder to forget them when they're gone. The emptiness they leave follows you forever but when the wound begins to heal there's often a relapse... And that would describe what I'm going through at the moment.
Lately it feels like I am going through my mother's death a lot, maybe too much. The letter was the last straw and I feel like I'm going to lose it. As much as I want to face it head on and move on, because it has been hard now, I just can't find the strength in me to do so. I can't even feel Alis's warmth and comfort. It's just a constant feeling of being bare as the wall I had built throughout the years is shattered brick-by-brick.
We are sat still, motionless. I know I feel broken; can't say the same for Alis. Until she stands up.
"I'll get you a cup of water", she says with a low tone and an uncertain voice. I've never seen her like this. She gets up and makes way downstairs as I drift to the memory. The memory of the last time I spoke to my mom:
"It will be alright sweetie, I just feel a little tired. The doctors will take good care of me. I promise I'll be back soon." Mom said grazing my cheek gently with a ressuring smile painted on her lips.
The paramedic pulls the barrell up and into the ambulance and last thing I know and the back door was shut with a clicking noise and they were gone.
The day after I waited outside the hospital room for them to let me in and when I did my mom was awaiting me with tired eyes and a weak voice.
"I love you Joy, never forget that...okay?" said my mom with a feeble smile - those ended up being her last words. I've played this moment so many times and it hurts more and more everytime I think about it.
After a few minutes Alis is back with a cup of water. I sip the water slowly letting it sit on my tounge incapable of swallowing it. It's like time isn't flowing; like we are static.
"Not this too." I quickly rub my tears off, stand up and walk to my father's office.
Unluckily he's not there.
°°°
The next day I go to school as usual, unable to concentrate as much as I would do upon normal circumtances. My mind is still wandering about yesterday. The thought of a brother seems ridiculous to me.
'I'm sure I would remember him.' I think in my head.
In psychology we have studied how some individuals tend to block out traumatic events and memories tied to them as a defence mechanism but this seems unheard-of. It's like my brain completely blocked out an entire aspect of my childhood, arguably the most important one.
"I wonder what you constantly think about. You are always oh-so-deep in your thoughts..." says Josh, who's sat beside me with a beam that looks almost genuine.
"Trust me, you don't. It's a mess in here." The words leave my mouth before I even think them. Usually I would ignore him but my brain is clearly rebelling today.
"Perhaps.....give me a chance firts." He giggles a little and moves to face me with his full body. His deep black hair seem to move with him as he does.
"I don't trust people like that"
"Fair enough. People are bad. I would know with the number of families I have gone through before my uncles could take me in custody." A nervous chuckle comes out as he finishes the sentence.
"Really?" I'm short of words. I don't want to be nosy, but I don't want to be completely dismissive either.
"Yeah, never met my parents and my uncles were too financially unstable to keep me so they sent me to the Foster system. They took full custody of me as soon as they were financially capable when I was 7."
His body language screams open friendly individual with his unfolded arms and his consistent eye contact, despite the topic at hand. I can tell he's a little nervous too. I can't help but feel bad for being this cold. I really am trying my best to be as friendly and as nice as possible for once.
"Last thing you probably want to hear is that I'm sorry", his smile widens after I utter those words. "You have been through something like this?" He asks running his hands through his curly coal fringe.
I nod.
"You don't have to tell me, it's just refreshing to hear someone say that. It's like people don't know that their apologies change nothing." His tone lowers ever-so-slightly. I feel more drawn to actually talk to him as he seems real and genuine. Then I remember that we are in class. I eye the teacher and then Josh, trying to signal to him that we should be focusing on the lesson. Giving me a smile, he turns to face the teacher.
Josh might actually be nice. I feel sort of guilty for being so rude to him, assuming he had bad intentions without getting to know him.
°°°
Afterschool, I lay down on the couch as I binge watch a show on the TV, trying to ignore the storm that is happening outside. My mind is still running but something else is on my mind: Josh. He's been really nice lately and I surprisingly liked talking to him today. I feel like he could understand me and he seems open to the idea of listening to me judgment-free. I'm not going to give in just yet though, I am just acknowledging that I should probably treat him better that I have been ever since he introduced himself. I suppose that only because some people in my past hurt me, it doesn't mean that future ones will do the same.