On the Petals of a Flower, I found something that does not belong to me

EPILOGUE

For You.

 The alarm went off. I got up with difficulty and swiped my finger on my phone screen. These days, I wanted to sleep more and more. I felt like a corpse.

 I sighed and rubbed my eyes. Then I turned to the other side.

 It had been another two months since the portal reopened and I was back. I was now at my father's house and Laila, my step sister, was always with me and took care of me. In the first month, too, my mom had moved into the same house. Well my dad's girlfriend was very nice and she let her stay and helped her and me at the same time.

 My parents had seen the portal. I was not the crazy one. When I told them what happened, they believed me. Grandpa was not there at the time and no one else knew. So we kept it a secret.

 My parents had been looking for me for a week, they had told me. At first they thought I had gone on a holiday break before I presented my thesis, which was what Des had told me at the time, but their memories were vague. They didn't know why they did not look for me. And they felt very guilty about it. So I did not mention it often. Because I knew. I knew they were not looking for me because something had happened to that world. And I knew that they realized that I was gone and something must have happened, only since Des had died there.

 Des had also disappeared and the only thing I could do was to give her ashes to her devastating parents. Shameless and with guilt, I went to them and told them that this was Des's and that she wanted you to keep it, as I watched her parents shatter and melt inside just a few moments.

 To everyone, my parents and I sold the same story. I was abducted and taken somewhere far away, I did not know where, before I woke up again and I was back here. And that one day, they had brought my friend Des there too, whom they killed. Which was later discovered with great difficulty in her ashes, that those ashes were hers.

 The only one who knew what happened was also my psychotherapist. I did not know if he thought I was crazy or not, but we agreed with my parents, for my own good, to tell him everything. And I did. When I had an appointment, I would go and tell him how I felt and what I went through there. The diagnosis he made was that I had Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).

 The police and Des's parents who did not want to leave the matter, and rightly so, did everything to find out who did it and what exactly happened. Only I couldn't tell them the truth. They would think I was crazy. All I wished for, was for this case to be closed and go to their files, even unsolved.

Knock Knock.

 The door to the room opened and I saw my father's girlfriend on the doorstep. "Charlie, are you awake?" she whispered.

 I sighed. I didn't want to say that I was awake. I wanted to sleep more. I felt so tired. But I also didn't want to lie to my father's girlfriend who helped us so much these months.

 I turned my head and looked at her. "Yes".

 My father's girlfriend, Alice, smiled at me lightly and somewhat hesitantly. "Can you get up and go wash? There are some detectives here and they want to talk to you."

 I sighed again and got up. Police again. They had become regulars in this house. And they kept coming and asking the same questions.

 I went to the bathroom and turned on the tap. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Alice make my bed. I reminded myself to thank her. Not just for the bed. But for everything. But that was for another time.

 After following my morning routine like a moving zombie, I didn't even bother to change my pajamas and headed to the living room. Alice had already been there. Dad was out, as was Laila and Alice's other children. On the couch opposite of my dad's girlfriend, were two women. One had dark long hair and wore a red leather jacket and black clothes, while the other wore her brown hair in a ponytail and also wore black clothes. The weather would probably be good outside. Inside the house, however, I felt cold.