Lost and Found ✓

ii. aziel

AZIEL

"Oh, honey, you're here!" Mom runs to welcome me as soon as I enter my parents' house. Hugging me, she says, "I've always been asking you to come home for a while. Why did you come only now?"

Half-heartedly, I return her hug.

"I've been busy with work, Mom. I couldn't find a good time to come here." It's a lie. I didn't want to come to this place, and the only reason I am here now is because I am hoping my mother will finally stop bugging me to visit if I humor her once. "Is Dad not here yet?"

"He'll be here in an hour. Do you want to sit down for now?" Mom suggests, gesturing at the sofa in the living room.

I know what she wants. A talk. Catching up, she calls it, but I don't want to talk about what's going on with my life right now. Not to my parents. Not to these too religious people who blamed Ariel's suicide on her own "godlessness."

She should have prayed. She shouldn't have listened to those evil voices in her mind. Why did she let the devil win? Just remembering those things my grandparents and parents said about Ariel's death, I feel like something is squeezing my chest. I want to get out of here.

"Can I go to my room instead? Work has been tiring, and I just want to have a little rest." Another lie. Or maybe not. It's true that I'm tired, but the reason is everything. I'm tired of everything, not just work.

"Oh, okay. Sure." I can hear the disappointment in my mother's voice. "But before you go to your room, can I at least ask you how you've been? Have you been doing well?"

I smile. Or at least, I try. I love my parents, and I never question their love for me and Ariel. When Ariel left us, I know it broke them too. I know they were honestly worried about me. Even now, I know my mom's concern is real. But just because we genuinely care for each other doesn't mean it's not painful to talk to them. Or maybe because we care, that's why it hurts.

"I'm doing fine," I mumble under my breath. Of course, I'm not fine, and I have a feeling Mom knows, but she doesn't need to hear that.

"I see. That's good to know then."

I am not sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing that she never presses further every time I tell her I'm fine.

With a nod, I turn to leave. But before I can walk away, I hear my mom tell me, "Never forget to pray whenever you're feeling down, okay? He'll always be there to help you."

Incredulous, I almost laugh. This is the kind of talk I want to avoid the most. Don't get me wrong. I respect my parents' beliefs. After all, Ariel and I grew up believing what they believe. Just pray, and everything will be alright.

Before, those words always sounded so wonderful to me. But now? They don't seem to have any meaning anymore.

Turning back to my mother, I fake a smile. Without saying a word, I walk out of the living room.

I can't tell her the truth. I can't say to her face that prayers stopped working for me a long time ago. Maybe it's the reason why I have a hard time opening up to them. I know they're just going to force me to listen to them preach. I know they'll think the only reason I am feeling like shit is because I lack faith in God. As if I hadn't practically begged Him before to make the nightmares stop. As if I had never called His name when I felt like I would lose it. None of those worked, but I kept on believing anyway. I kept on believing until I realized it was not helping anymore.

Ironic for someone with the name 'Aziel' to feel like that.

I don't want people questioning my faith if they don't even know how I cried to Him every night, thinking it was the only thing that could save me. And I know Ariel must have done the same thing.