Three Last Days - an emotional short story about Depression

Day Three - Lacuna

The dark soul's question torments me sleeplessly:
"How can a heart be so heavy and yet so empty?"- Thomas S. Lutter

The third day of the overnight stay on the island had begun, and Aurora was plagued by another sleepless night. Her sleepless dreams, torn memories that kept jumping through her head, showed her Kara running through the meadows and fields in a summer dress and laughing happily. Kara, her daughter, who wanted to protect Aurora with her life but had failed. Yesterday Josephine had confessed that she was the one who had organized everything. She wanted the nightmare to end, and Aurora wanted that too. She didn't know how long her heart would continue to beat, but this enormous emptiness, this painful absence in her soul, was killing her.

 A little more every day. She was just an empty body, a shell, a conch that reflected the sound of the sea and the environment. Her voice was a distant echo, her thoughts were faint memories that threatened to fade at any moment. Aurora opened her eyes and saw the same gray blanket.

"Today is the day. That's what you meant, Josephine," she whispered, as if her hostess could hear her. She wanted to get up, but her legs lacked the strength. Even breathing became difficult. As if iron chains had been tied around her chest, slowly pulling her into a dark oblivion. The last light of life left her, like the air from her lungs. "Kara, I'm so incredibly sorry about everything," she sniffed. Aurora wanted to cry, she wanted her tears to refresh her dirty, gray face, but she didn't have the strength even for a small tear. More images flashed before her inner eye, she saw Kara as a small child, with her funny pigtails and colorful bows.

Back then, she had wanted Barbie dolls for her birthday, which is why Kara had spent all her savings on them. She had bought clothes, shoes and wigs for the doll so that her daughter could be creative. Kara had always come to her and while they had cuddled on the old sofa with the many different pillows, her daughter had told her what she would like to do in the future. She also wanted to design clothes, to create something that would bring joy to others. Aurora had always supported her, she had always been for it, no matter what Kara had decided.

The only thing that was important to her was that her daughter was happy. As long as Kara was with her, Aurora felt complete - but now she felt like a sunken shipwreck. Grief grabbed Aurora violently by the shoulders and shook her; the grief crushed her, but the woman did not dare to stop thinking about Kara.

Aurora stood and looked in the mirror; she was not shocked by how drained her face looked, or how dark her eyes looked. It didn't matter anymore. There was only one thing that mattered to her, and it was the damn truth. Words that were not wrapped up in a lie, letters that would break the mind in two and then shatter the heart. But she pursued that pain, the scars on her forearms made that clear. Death sat on her shoulder, just waiting to hear the truth that would break Aurora. Death was amused by this tragedy.

As a few more strands of hair came loose and fell on Aurora's face, she ran her fingers over the crumpled paper of the diary once more. Kara had not only written terrible things in this notebook, but also beautiful ones. Enchanting words, rhymes and little poems. Aurora read them over and over again, they gave her at least a little feeling of friends and security. Her mother liked one of these poems in particular, she just couldn't stop admiring it.

Seagulls screech above my head,

The water rocks me lazily,

But the wind pulls and pulls at my braid,

While I am so lonely and lonely forever.

I dance slowly through the dim light,

But no one is watching, the seats are empty,Is it no longer my duty?

The seats are empty, the theater weighs heavily on my heart,

But I still ask myself, why am I dancing, dancing?

Why am I wearing, wearing the masks so miserably?

I lie here, I lie there, no one around me is so close to me,

Soon my play will end, the lights will go out,

One last time I get the thunderous applause!

It was hard to believe that her daughter had written something like that. As if she had known that the truth about her death would remain hidden for a long time. Aurora slammed the book shut again and looked in the mirror. Her brown eyes had lost the sparkle she had always shared with Kara. Would she ever see that glimmer in her eyes again? Would the truth bring back the light of hope?

Could there even be hope in her life when death had long been standing behind her back and whispering in her ear?She would soon find out the truth, today to be more precise. And then she would end everything. She would no longer run away from death. No, she would no longer be a coward. She had made up her mind a long time ago. This would be the last day.