A calm wind blew through Lucy's hazel colored, shoulder length hair. She couldn't remember the last time she felt relaxed. Even now, in the dead of the summer, all she could focus on was her deep, sad thoughts.

Where did she go wrong? Why has life taken her into so many different directions? She wasn't sure if there was any purpose dwelling on the subject at all, but she dwelled nonetheless.

A sigh. Heavy, like a brick falling from the eleventh floor of a high rise building. She didn't want to leave a bench, she didn't want to stand up, she didn't want to go anywhere. She just wanted to sit here, forever, idle.

From the corner of her eye she saw Aiven exit the building. She swallowed a heavy rock in her throat, resisting every urge she had to stand up and follow him, to ask him 'why'?

Why did he leave her, all alone to the sharks of the world? Why did he abandoned her when she needed him most? Why did he refuse to take any responsibility for the chaos he has caused in her heart?

He seemed carefree. Smiling, talking to the person next to him as if he wasn't experiencing a single shred of emotion towards her. As if the past was nothing else but a bad dream, one you have when you're a bit feverish. She felt wetness on her face. Teardrops.

Lucy had to force herself to stand up. She felt nothing but pain. Endless suffering, total disconnect from the world. Like waves, everything crashed inside her, turmoil of the heavens and hells, ringing bells. So much noise. So much chaos. And absolutely no happiness. Life has been not just heart, it has become unbearable. Seeing Aiven so happy, unbothered solidified her actions.

She had nothing else left to live for; she knew what she had to do. Today was the day, and no one, anywhere, would change her mind.

—————————

Years later, Adelaide Cooper, now her mother's age, 29 sat across the table from a shareholder in her company. He looked sour, complaining about something that she cared very little about.

On her table was a picture of her fiancée, Hector. Handsome face with stark blue eyes and features any man would envy. She was lucky to be marrying him and she knew that, yet she could feel her heart empty.

In the drawer at her desk was another photograph. An older photo, taken pre-digitalized photography. A paper photo of her mother, Lucy, in her happiest of days. In that picture Lucy wore a yellow dress with polka dots and swirled in the arms of her ex-lover, Aiven. It was a beautiful photo, the colors had been preserved even through time. Unfortunately, both people in that photo had been dead for a few decades now and times have changed.

"Yes, I understand your concerns, Mr. Starling," she smiled at him, broadly. Adelaide was unusually friendly and understanding for her age, and she could tell that the old man appreciated that. She knew he didn't want any promises or real changes, all he wanted was to be listened to. And better than anyone, she knew exactly how to do that. "I will look into the matter for you, worry not. I'm sure we will solve all the problems ahead. I appreciate your voice, Mr. Starling."

The man nodded to her and said something else, before leaving the office and Adelaide alone to her thoughts. She took out the photograph in the drawer and looked at it again. On the back, on the yellowed paper the inscription said: 'with love, Aiven'.

She sighed before putting it down. She kept that photograph for ages but had not dared to look at her mother's journals or notes since she had passed away when Adelaide was very young. A strange feeling descended on her heart. A heaviness she didn't expect.

If he had been in love with her, as this note professed, why had he not married her? What stopped them from being together? Adelaide didn't know why but she felt a strange kinship with her mother at this time. Maybe her own thoughts about her engagement and the fear of uncertainty of marriage is what led her here.

She needed to see her journals. The day was almost over, which meant she could stop by her old home and climb up to the attic, open the boxes and take a peek inside. But at what cost? Would she really be able to rest after she found out what really happened to her mom?

Benjamin rarely ever talked about her, and when he did it was mostly small, insignificant details. She was talented. She had an eye to see through the camera lenses like no one else. She was a brilliant writer. And she was sad. Always, always sad.

Adelaide stood up, gathering her belongings and preparing to go home. Finally, after all these years she felt ready to know the answers. What really killed her talented but eternally sad mother?

—————————

The journey home could not take longer. The driver stopped by her old house. Lucy had a good taste in homes and interior design, despite being incredibly quirky. Adelaide couldn't deny that she missed the house, even if she did not miss her father.

By her calculations, Benjamin was not inside. He was somewhere on a business trip or perhaps taking a sabbatical away from all the noise. He often escaped, even when she was a child. Having kids did not suit him.

Her phone rang. Hector.

"Hey honey," she heard a familiar silky voice on the other side of the line. Adelaide couldn't help but smile. This man was so tender, his warmth filled her conflicted heart the instant he spoke.

"Hey," she responded rather flatly. "I'm heading to my father's house for a bit. He asked me to take care of a few things for him."

She could practically see him frown over the phone. That was a lie, and both of them knew it, but she couldn't tell Hector what she was really doing. He would object, because according to him, dwelling on the past was bad practice.

"When will you be back? I was planning on making some dinner," she heard how stiff his voice had become. She owed him an explanation but not now.

"It wouldn't take longer than twenty minutes. I will be there before you know it, hon," Adelaide smiled, hoping that her warmth, no matter how small, would be able to break the ice he had put up in front of him.

It particularly worked. She heard a sigh.

"I'll get it ready then. Missed you," he said, prolonging the 'you' in the most adorable way possible. Adelaide smiled. She loved him, she just wasn't sure that it was enough.

"I missed you too," she whispered before opening the doors to her old house and hanging up.

Everything was just as she remembered. The last time she entered this house on her own accord must have been six or seven months ago. If she could help it, she only met her father outside it. And she would see him as little as she could. Their relationship wasn't exactly the most tender, so it was no surprise to other, especially not to Hector. He didn't press her on details about her childhood and she didn't want to talk about it much.

Adelaide didn't stay in the first floor for long. She was on a mission. She swiftly climbed upstairs, opened the locked hatch to the old attic and climbed the staircase up.

Everything around her was dark and dusty. Silence filled the room with a weighing presence. Little to no light reached her up and she was forced to use her phone as a flash light.

She knew her father kept Lucy's journals. He didn't read them, of course, because he was never interested to find out the truth and he didn't mourn her the same way Adelaide did. Sometimes, she wondered why they married if he never talked about her like he loved her.

She sighed. Finding the box was rather easy when they were all neatly labeled. It was ordinary: a yellow box, stapled "Lucy". She knew she could trust the old man's pedantic nature.

Adelaide sat down next to it, took a deep breath and opened it. In front of her were about seven different journals, nearly stalked together, each at least two hundred pages of paper her mother filed.

She didn't want to start at the beginning, so she picked the one dated the year before she died.

She opened it, coincidentally, to the very last page it was filled.

The shock flashed in her eyes, as all live drained from her cheeks. The journal entry was dated the day her mother drowned in the tub, supposedly after accidentally falling asleep in it.

The words in the entry blurred but Adelaide clearly made out, the single most significant line:

'Yes, today is the day I kill myself."