The door creaked open as I paved the way for Anita to go into the house before me.
Once she was in, I followed behind and closed the door.
"You can have any room you want". I suggested to her, walking ahead of her to point out the doors to each room.
The house has six bedrooms, all of which are available for use. Each bedroom also has its bathroom and an extra bathroom connected to the living room.
The kitchen and the storage room are situated side by side, to the right of the living room while the exit door of the building is by the right at the far end.
"I am fine with any room you choose for me to stay in".
Her face? Her expression? Everything about her was blank and expressionless which made it hard for me to tell what was going through her mind.
"Okay. You can go over to that room". I suggested, pointing to the passage at my right, opposite the room I stayed in.
She did as I instructed and went up the passage with her one mid-sized luggage dragged along.
I stood there and watched her leave. It was after she had gone inside the room did I walked to the couch to sit on.
I abruptly landed my body on the couch as I had my dejected face raised toward the ceiling.
Mister Ripper had given me a whole week off. He did so out of consideration for what I was going through.
Even after I persisted about continuing to work, he stayed adamant in the same way I did about the burial expenses.
In a lot of ways, I am grateful to Mister Ripper. He has transcended to be more than a boss to me and gotten to the realm of a diligent helper.
He is someone I can place my trust in.
"What should I do?!". I questioned, silently so she wouldn't hear me.
This is not a question that was brought up because I had nothing to do.
I was tired, and my body wasn't exactly in the best shape right now. Mentally that is. It is currently going through one of the toughest times in my life.
My heart was hurting, being pierced through at every turn and moment I sat down thinking about it.
If I am in a state like this, then I can only imagine what Anita is going through.
She has just lost her mother and I? I have lost an aunt, the last family I had.
"What should I do?!". I questioned again, this time weakly.
Why is the world so cruel? Why is it so unfair?... What has my aunt ever done wrong to the world?...
I tried to cry, but the tears just wouldn't flow down my eyes no matter what I did.
Emotionally, I was in pain. Physically, my body resisted all forms of pain.
Never have I so hated my body's transition.
No. This might not be about the transition my body had undergone.
Though I am unwilling to accept it, not crying physically is a fault on my part.
The last tears I had shed were four years ago, and I did so when it was raining, where nobody could see or discern what I was doing.
Yes! I am not crying not because I can't, but because I believe I shouldn't.
While I was brooding, three consecutive knocks rang at the doorstep. I had heard their footsteps before they got into the building's perimeter.
About a week and a half ago, I had promised myself to never use any of the changes happening to my body.
Because of that promise, I was able to master said changes to a certain extent, and could now control it at will. Limit the range of what I want to hear, and if at all I wanted my hearing to be abnormal.
I got up and went to the entrance to open the door.
"Officers!". I exclaimed, surprised to see the two officers who broke the news the first time, standing on my porch.
"Is there a problem".
I was a bit alarmed. Everything had been taken care of, so I don't believe I still have any business with them.
"None whatsoever. We only came here to pay our condolences for your loss". Answered the officer staying behind.
How nice of them.
My opinion about officers in uniform is not exactly painted in roses, but it's nice to see that not every one of them is the same.
"Is she okay". Asked the front officer, with a tone that shows he cares.
I couldn't give him an instant reply, not when I hadn't gotten the chance to speak to her myself.
"What about you".
Aware that I was hesitating, the officer shifted the focus of his question to me.
"Yes, yes I am okay".
How could I not be?
Just as Mister Ripper said earlier in the day, I have to be strong for her sake.
She is the last blood family I am in contact with, likewise her case. Even if she doesn't like me, Anita herself must have realised that in times like this, we need the presence of each other the most.
So yeah, I am okay. I have to be strong and show that everything is fine.
"You are a strong one kid". The front officer complimented as he went on; "I am sure with your resilient nature you will be able to pull through out of this".
I showed him a smile, one that demonstrated how okay I was about everything that was going on.
Satisfied with my response, the officers turned and were about to leave when the one behind abruptly stopped and turned to look at me.
"Right. The court has made the judgement on your uncle's case. They declared him the perpetrator of this incident and has sentenced him to twelve years in prison".
Once I heard that; for just a brief moment, one that escaped the eyes of the officers, my smiling face turned upside down and became sour, bitter even.