Some Thorns, Some Roses

V | Evita's Chocolate Cookies

The day of her funeral was the day that something changed inside of me. All of my priorities shifted and all the things I thought were important weren't. Family, friends, moments were the most important thing to me. 

That morning was the hardest of days. I felt like my body was paralysed and I was stuck to my bed. I didn't sleep the night before, having slept the whole day. But as I look at the ceiling, feeling restless and drained, the thought flood though my mind.

 I missed her dearly.

 I was silently sobbing, sitting in a pool of my own tears. My pillow literally wet from the amount of water that was leaving my eyes. I knew that I had to start getting ready that if I didn't I would miss the funeral, but I could not move. I could barely even breathe. 

I had been missing my biological mother for a while and I tried not to let it effect my everyday life. It never did for the most part because I always had my mom, Charlotte to fill the hole. But I have missed Evita since the day she truly left me. 

I knew that if I didn't get up someone would come and get me. But I didn't really want to be bothered. I wanted to cry, I needed to cry. I needed to try not to miss her as badly as I was at the moment. 

I miss her wild spirit and her fun personality. The moments when she would make me and my cousins laugh until we cried. The spark in her eye when she was challenged to a game of Shichi Narabe or she was asked to dance. How she loved to dance. I miss the way she taught me how to bake just like my grandmother did with her. I miss her chocolate cookies and how she taught me all of my grandmother's medical abilities. 

I needed to get these flooding memories out of my head because the more I thought about them, the more the colors from the memory would fade. They were all turning gray and I needed to hold onto them because they are the only reason why I am being as strong as I am. They are the reason for that strength. 

I am guilty to admit that. Ashamed even. It should be my friends and family. It should be the people who have literally helped me though everything, but it's not. 

It's those memories of me being happy and of me being with my mom- biological mom. 

One sob escaped my mouth and as if it was a summon, Auggie entered my room slowly. He looked as if he didn't want to wake me if I was sleeping. His movements were quiet and even, slowly creeping in my room, closing the door behind him. 

They sun was barely up, but I knew that Auggie was wide awake because he is a morning person for the most part. 

When he saw I was awake and bawling my eyes out, he froze. Then as if the wind picked up his feet and moved them towards me, in a blink of an eye, he was in my bed, holding me to his chest. 

"Shhhh, it's alright." he whispered to me, rubbing my back, giving me so much comfort. My hand admittedly gripped his shirt, balling the fabric into my fist. My heart hurt so much and I just wanted it to stop. 

I was wheezing, barely being able to breathe. I felt like I was suffocating and I had something that I hadn't had in months.... a panic attack. 

I knew it was coming from the way my breathing was shaky and I couldn't breathe. That feeling of suffocation could have only meant one thing. 

Auggie was holding me, saying something aloud, but I was too busy trying not to die. I felt like I was if I didn't calm down. 

I curled up in a tight ball, holding onto Auggie for dear life. I wasn't sure if he tried to pry me away, but I felt tugging at my arms. It was annoying, but I wasn't too concerned about it because I felt like I was dying.