the fate played

41 - the things

Hailey Robinson

When I nodded to his 'Do you trust me?', I was correct to myself but now that he opened the box I know I won't be going back. My past, my origin lied in the box that was sitting in my lap.

"Some photos, a dress, necklace and a letter", he says.

I gulp a lump threatening to form in my throat, "the letter, did you saw who wrote it?"

He nods, "your grandparents."

My eyes start burning, heat forming behind my lids and water warning to leak. I blink hard and stare down at the box for a long dull moment. There was a stream of questions running through my mind looking at the box. Will it even matter if I open the box and have a glimpse to the shit I don't even know about myself? Can I not just drop the shit and move on instead of looking at ghosts.

All these years I've barely lived a life where I didn't knew if I belonged somewhere but now that I know from where I come from, it's worthless. I will be looking at ghosts instead of going out to search for my true place.

Gathering up the last bits of my conscious self and a splash of courage I open the box, remove it's lid and just stare down at the contents. The letter was atop everything and first in sight. With trembling hands I pick up the letter and open it.

It was addressed to me, by my grandparents- Edward and Annaliese, whom I don't remember.

I read, every single line, again and again and again. I read until every single word, every single letter had diffused inside my blood. None of it made sense at first, I don't remember it. It felt empty and as if none of it was true, but again why would the letter be in my hands at first place.

The letter concluded so many things, though it was one single page but it had all those parts of my life that were blank to me. It said how my mother nearly lost me but had happy tears when I cried for the first time, how I looked like a little version of my mother, act like her, more specifically ordered around like her, took fights and was a little fighter.

They also said they didn't knew my father, they had no idea. The whole purpose of the letter was to let me know about that one fucking day I got to spend with my mother, the same day I was born because she died the very next day.

The little details about that day filled my eyes with tears. I didn't realized I had tears in my eyes but I feel something stir around me and a second later Chris had me turned around so I could face him, allowing him to wipe my tears.

We know you are not aware about your mother but remember her as a woman who left to save you and never had a chance to come back. Remember her as a woman who gave birth to you, a mother, remember her as a mother, a mother whose first words to you were, "hi, my little fighter." The mother whose second words to you were, "my little fighter, you have your father's eyes", And for the third she named you 'Hailey Enna Robinson' after her and your father's mother.

The letter was still in my hand but the words blurred. I turn around and press my face into his chest, let the tears fall. The pain clogged my throat and burnt my lungs. The fact that there was a sacrifice so I can have a life, she left and never had a chance to come back. The pain rises up to my head, clearing me out of my illusion and numbing me right away.

"They want me to remember her", I sob. "How can I, she barely got a day with me", I suck in a sharp breath and let the tears flow. Superficially it appeared dumb, thinking how I was wailing over my mother whom I've never seen, but the letter had broken my heart into many tiny fucking pieces. The letter was a realization, a belief that I've never seen colours in my life, I don't know what warmth feels like.