𝐼𝓃𝒻𝒶𝓉𝓊𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒹

Chapter 15- An Unexpected Walk Down the Memory Lane

[TW: This chapter deals with mentions of suicide and an underage's use of liquor, which may be sensitive for some readers. Please proceed with caution.]

"Cris, shona! Look what we got for you!" Ma sings, holding a set of two silver chain hook bracelets in a transparent, rectangular box.

"Isn't it such a sweet gift, mon amour?" Papa chuckles.

Shona and mon amour. Such sweet names, right?

I gasp at the sight of the box and grinning wildly, I look at both of them. "Thank you! It's so awesome and pretty, thanks!" I gush, the grin on my face not leaving the slightest bit.

They smile and chuckle, exchanging a look of relief. Though my parents weren't really ever crazy to give extravagant or ostentatious gifts that I would rather hide, treasure or show off than utilize, they still gave what they thought would be nice for me. What I could utilize.

"It was your Grandma's." Ma smiles. Though I don't know them too well due to a few visits to India, I knew they were caring but judgmental people, still not okay with the fact that Ma had decided to marry a 'brusque foreigner from a high school at a foreign country', aka my French Dad, without much care to the consent or happiness of her traditional parents.

My Dad's side of the family, died  when he was quite young. It was a hideous, unfortunate plane crash, was all I'd been told, since Dad wasn't too happy about talking on the matter.

It was a classic case of two 'head-over-heels in love' young adults who did a live in together until Ma's family found out and opposed against it. Things went rough following that, and they joined different colleges but still kept on seeing each other, and eventually eloped. Sweet.

Well, now they're dead, my mom's people. 

I giggle, though my pre-teen feminine voice made it sound like more of a weird chuckle.

"It cascaded down to me?" I ask in wonder and awe, as the bracelet's pretty immaculate for something that two people owned before.

"Yes, shona." Ma grins. Shona, a loving term used for me. Origin: Indian languages, of course.

"Thank you! I'm honestly honored!" I sigh, slipping them both over my wrists, but furrowing my brows in confusion when I find out they're way too big for me.

Ma and Papa laugh. "Amour, that's to fit you when you get much older. Say, 16. You'll have to wait till then, and keep it safe, because it's precious. And expensive, when it came out in the markets at the time when your grandmother was young." Papa says, referring to my maternal gran, of course.

"Papa's right, shona." Ma concludes for him. "Wear it as you want, but it should stay immaculate and precious, like it has been for decades. We want to trust you with this, hmm?"

"Oh, of course. I'll try my best." I smile, putting the bracelets back in for safe keeping.

No matter how small or enormous, ostentatious or cheap, I was always equally happy with every gift I received. It was just a strange inner happiness that blossomed within me, and Ma and Papa clearly acknowledged and loved the fact.

Because, as I was bent in scoring well in school and maintaining a good social life in there too, as Ma was absolutely busy as a journalist, her dream career, to fulfill her boss's and her own expectations, as Papa was crazy with his bank job and infant business start-up which he would name as Beaumont Corp., we never got time out for each other, and since my work obviously didn't keep me as busy as theirs did them, I was affected by it so much I grew distant and solitary myself.

And these two characteristics would probably stay with me for the rest of my life.