Roommates 🫶

13

December 2010

A couple hours after the initial passing of my father, they gave us time to grieve with his body still there. At around 10pm, however, they had to escort us out as visiting hours were over and they had to prep the body to be sent to the funeral home.

My mother refused to leave my father's side. She held onto him as multiple doctors tried to pry her off. At one point security had to come in and had to physically take her out. They left us in the lobby, assuming my Mom would probably leave after that, but no. She sat in the lobby, staring off into the distance. She looked empty, her eyes were lifeless and her face was almost as pale as my father's was, the only way I could tell she was alive was the slow rising and falling of her chest as she inhaled and exhaled. It was like I lost two parents that day.

~•~

We eventually did go home after that. The hospital staff called a taxi to take us home since they weren't comfortable in my mother trying to get herself and me home safely in her state.

We got home late that night, maybe around midnight. The moment we went through the front door, Mom just dragged herself quietly to her room upstairs. She hadn't said a word to me this whole time.

She wasn't a big talker before he died too, but she did at least talk to me. I think she may have forgotten that she has me here too. That I'm also going through losing someone important.

I knew Dad was gone. And I knew it was a bad thing. But I still couldn't quite wrap my head around this "death" thing. I'm sad because my Mom is sad and that makes me sad.

I didn't quite understand the true meaning of death until I woke up the next morning completely alone.

Usually during winter break, my Dad would be up first reading the newspaper with a cup of coffee in the kitchen. My Mom would be making breakfast, something very yummy for the three of us. If I woke up early enough to when she was still cooking, I would watch her cook in awe and ask questions about what she was doing. She always answered with a smile, even if I was upset about something she was always smiling. She would come to me with a bandaid if I fell down with a smile. That warm, welcoming smile of hers. I haven't seen her smile in a while.

That morning when I woke up, it was sort of bright outside, although it was cloudy. I smelt no cooking food, no coffee steaming, and I heard no hearty laughs from my parents as they spoke. It was quiet and still, like nobody lived here. The only thing that offset this stillness was a loud bang at my door.

It startled me, but they just kept going and I knew my Mom wouldn't go answer. As I tiptoed down the stairs my mind flooded with thoughts, the thought of the empty, quiet house, the thought of my Mom not smiling, the thought of my Mom feeling sad, maybe sadder than I am, the thought that my Dad is gone.

The last thought lingered a little longer than the others. I think I know what "death" means now.

With my mind racing at a million miles an hour, I fought tears that threatened to spill. I was so, so overwhelmed and so miserable. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and die. Maybe then I could see my father again.

I opened the door.

I didn't expect the person who was behind the door. It was Sasaki. My best friend. Who I had abandoned, again. I felt guilt eat at me.

When he saw me open the door, he seemed very shocked, like he hadn't actually expected it to happen. He was wearing a navy blue hoodie with a cartoon print on it and pajama pants as well as a pair of red polka-dot rain boots. His black hair has gotten longer, I observed. The back of it just barely touched the bottom of his neck. His gray eyes stared back at me in surprise. I noticed the way his eyes searched me, like he was going to find some information from my appearance.