Left To Survive

XXII

16 April
11 PM

Exactly a week after Yara's death I was standing in front of her grave. The priest was done saying his little speech. I forgot what he said though, his words left my head as soon as I heard them.

The funeral went by quickly. Most people had already left, and I was standing outside. It was one of the first sunny days of the year. No rain fall, like they always showed in movies. Instead the sun was shining down on me, warming my face and hands, like nothing happened. Like I didn't lose my best friend just a week ago.

"Did you know about it?" a voice asked. I turned around and see that Yara's mom had approached me, Aaron behind her like a beaten puppy. "I'm sorry?" I asked her. The woman sighed. "Did you know that Yara had plans of... Leaving?"

I looked back at her grave. "Of course not," I told her by truth. The woman let out a deep sigh. "Then she didn't tell anyone. I should have been the one to know what was going on in her stupid little brain. I always knew there was something wrong with that child..."

"Let me stop you right there, ma'am," I interrupted her. The woman looked at me with raised eyebrows and a judgy look.

"I usually don't speak this way to anyone," I continued, "but you've went too far with my patience. You are the reason that Yara is lying in that grave right now. You are the reason she has felt miserable, for years! You made her life a living hell, every day, up until the point where she couldn't take it anymore, and the only outcome to her seemed death. So, respectfully, don't ever talk to me again, or, I swear to God, I'll slap you across the face so hard that you'll never forget what you have done to my best friend. Have a nice day." And I walked away.

On the way to the car, where my parents waited for me with their worried faces, tears finally rolled down my cheeks. I couldn't care less for yelling at Yara's mom. She deserved much worse than that anyways. I should've done it earlier.

"Hey sweetie, how are you feeling?" my mom asked me carefully.

"Like shit."

ꕥ ꕥ ꕥ ꕥ ꕥ ꕥ ꕥ ꕥ
12 PM

Arrived home, I went straight to my room. I laid on my bed without changing my clothes and stared at the ceiling for some time. My mind was blank, everything felt numb. I hadn't done anything for the past week. No school, no taking care of my plants. I was forgetting to eat, or I just don't want to. My dad took off from his work this week too, to take care of me. They were treating me amazingly, and I was being so ungrateful to them. But I simply couldn't find the energy to care anymore.

After half an hour our doorbell rang. I heard my father opening the door and voices talking. I stood up from my bed and opened my door to hear their conversation.

"... We're just going through her room, you know, getting rid off all the stuff and make some empty space. And in between the mess we found this."

A few seconds of silence.

"Well, I'll give it to her. Thank you for bringing it."

"No problem, I figured it's better than throwing it away. Have a nice day."

"You too."

My dad closed the door. I went down and asked him who it was. "Oh, it was Yara's mother, she came to bring you this," and he handed me a pink envelope. "I think it's from Yara."

I stared at the letter in his hand for a few seconds, then took it with shaking hands. "Thanks dad," I told him, before I went to my plant room and sat down on some pillows. The plants were dying, as I wasn't giving them the slightest attention anymore. The feeling of them around felt strangely comforting though, cause I was dying inside too.

Since yesterday the moon plant had shown a little sparkle of life. It was the strangest thing ever; it was dead, dry and brown one day, next a little white blossom showed up in the night. Today the blossom was still there, although it looked much darker.

While reading the letter, tears rolled down my face, on the pink paper.

These were her last words.