Days replaced nights and nights replaced days. But they were stuck. Their time didn't move. It was as still as everything else was. Thomas locked himself completely in the room as if he was punishing himself and Ophelia read and reread her grandmother's last words. She was destroyed inside out. The weather changed from fall to the icy cold winter. It doesn't stop for anyone. She'd sat in the front of the window in her grannie's room and reread her letter. The weather was transitioning in front of her but it was only the weather. Instead of moving on, she was getting deeper and deeper into the past. Her world was going on in reverse.
Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday dear Ophy, Happy birthday to you. Thomas and Catherine came into the lounge with a huge chocolate cake in their hands and sang the birthday song in the chorus. Their voices were the least to match each other, but somehow it was melodious. Ophelia jumped with happiness. Her eyes were shining. Any excessive feelings caused her cheeks to turn red. Thomas put the cake on the table and carried Ophelia in his arms. She wrapped her arms around him and he gently fingered her hair. Which were at that time still very long, regarding her size as she was only six. He put her on the floor and kissed her forehead. As soon as both of them pulled apart she scurried to her grandma.
"Thank you very much, grannie" her voice was cute and childish. She spoke very delicately. She turned to her father and continued. "Thank you too, father" both of them answered simultaneously "oh dear, let's cut the cake" "Then we'll open the gifts" Thomas added. Her eyes lit up at the mention of gifts. They cheered and clapped and enjoyed.
She held the book of fairy tales in her hands. Sitting in front of her bookshelf she pulled out the book after such a long time. Her diary was sitting on the floor next to her. She tried to take it up and wrote but couldn't. She opened the blank page in the journal and instead of writing down her thoughts only whispered:
Today I looked back at a very old memory. And the reason I went there was a gift. The fairy tale book has been on my bookshelf for a very long time. It was a gift given to me on my 6th birthday. Grannie gave that to me. That was the first book I read. Before that, I only listened to the stories grannie told me.
She stopped and closed the journal.
The single book brought back to her a long pastime. Ophelia raised her pendant to her lips with the tip of her white thumb and kissed it softly.
Her only survival in those days filled with atrocities was those memories. She intentionally held onto them. She never let them fade, for she believed that Catherine was with her whenever she remembered her. She never let her die that way. Catherine was alive in her memories. She never actually died. Ophelia was doomed to her past that she abandoned her present. Many letters arrived every day from the clients of far-off places. She didn't bother to look at them. She thought that if she will live this way, she will never have to abandon her grannie. She got scared that her memories will fade little by little with the passing of time if she didn't recall them continuously. Some people also visited the house but the maid told them to come again another time. They knew of her grandmother's death but a lot of time had passed, many weeks, and measuring against normalcy it was enough to get up from the darkness. She let all of them down and did not bother herself.
Ophelia came to the great lounge after many days, she just did not leave her room. It haunted her. She could see herself with her grannie everywhere. On the sofa at the far end and near the floor lamp when Catherine was tying her hair. Suddenly her gaze shifted to that side of the sofa which was Catherine's usual place for sitting, beside the coffee table. She took a step towards it and sat on the sofa. She took a pillow from the side and placed it on her lap and closed her eyes. Her fragrance was still there, or maybe just for her.
"Grannie, why did George's mother restrict him from playing with me?"
Catherine narrowed her eyes and asked, "How do you know that his mother restricted him?"
"He told me that he won't play with me anymore"
Ophelia's head was resting on her lap, she was sitting on the same sofa. "Did you do something dear?" she again asked "No, Grannie I didn't" "What were you both doing when you played last time together?" she was getting keen. "We were just playing....Ummm….Yes….I told him the stories which you told me the night before" Catherine's facial muscles tensed but she remained silenced.
After finishing rereading that letter, she always felt a huge weight on her shoulders which she shuddered away with a million lame excuses.
Those lines repeated themselves again and again.
(I hope that you won't abandon your agenda. I hope that you'll do the things you intend to. Never fall prey to weakness, my dear)
She tried hard to forget them but they stayed and haunted her. They made her feel as if she was a deceiver. She was actually deceiving her grannie's hopes, her own dreams. She was acting like a deceiver. Because many months had passed since that incident happened. By now, Thomas had also started to busy himself with work. He became a robot, just doing the work for a mere duty. Leaving the house early morning and entering late at night. He completely ignored Ophelia but a part of him was somewhat satisfied that she'd stopped working on those letters.
Every time she closed the letter, it became more difficult to ignore those words but it was uncontrollable for her not to read that over and over again.
One day her maid knocked at the door and told her that someone is waiting for her in the great lounge. When she inquired who was. The maid answered...