The Wings Of A Caged Bird | First Draft

epilogue

“One caravan has stopped,
another one starts up. There
are people I have yet to meet,
others I'll never meet again.”

— Banana Yoshimoto,
Moonlight Shadow 

10 YEARS LATER
9 July, 2029

We remember what we want to forget, and forget what we want to remember.

When Edgar asks me why I didn't go to my so-called secret place today like I do every year, I only blink at him a few times at first. My mind goes foggy, unable to process the information. So I look at the date on the bottom right of my laptop screen and see that indeed, today is the 9th of July. The day of the year when I take a leave from my job, cancel all my plans, leave all my mails unchecked, miss Mr. Keith's appointment, and hop on a train to the neighboring city, Heilbur. Specifically the Castletons' family graveyard.

Where he is eternally buried.

Every July 9th, for the past nine years, I have gone to visit him in commemoration of the day he first came to my life. I would spend hours in front of his grave, telling him about every eventful thing that happened to me from the previous July 9th to the present one.

Why, then, did I completely forget about it this year?

I feel as though I have committed a terrible sin. A storm begins to take shape within me. Edgar gets worried at my lack of response and walks over to my side. He asks me if I'm okay, and I say that it's nothing and head to the bathroom.

I splash water on my face. Then I look at myself in the mirror and tell myself, it's okay. That can happen. I'm so busy after all. Aside from my job as an editor in Indigo Publishing, I also work as a freelance beta reader. Sometimes I write paid reviews for the books of authors who are about to debut and post them on Goodreads, where I have a large following. I barely have time to relax, which is how I prefer it. Rather, not being busy makes me feel weird. I like being so occupied that I don't have time to think too much. It's quite alright that it slipped out of my mind.

I forgot. Oh God, how could I forget?

Edgar reminded me this year. But he won't be here next year. What if I forget about it entirely, and don't realize it several days later? And if I forget him, who will keep him alive?

Even worse, what if I do remember it, but not find the motivation to go and visit him? What if my mind tries to deceive me, saying things like it's been a long time already, that it's just a waste of time and energy, that I have more important things to do? Though I hate to admit it to myself, I have had thoughts like this sometimes in the past years, mostly because of my exhaustion from work.

I can't do that to him.

I shake my head, pushing such thoughts away. The more I think about it, the more I will break. This was bound to happen, sooner or later. I knew it was going to happen even back when he was still in my life. But I suppose a part of me overestimated the passage of time, and everything it strips you of, everything it steals from you without notice.

I reorganize my brain, putting my emotions in order, preventing them from going wayward. I don't need to dwell on this so much. It's only 3 in the afternoon, the sun is still out. I just need to pack some things and get on the next train. I'll be there in an hour. I guess I'll have to spend the night in a hotel. I will then take the earliest train tomorrow and head straight to work.

Now that I have a plan, the restlessness melts away. I exit the bathroom and find Edgar sitting on the edge of my bed.

"You okay, dude?" he asks, standing up.