Grieve

Chapter 6

It's been a long time since I've talked about my parents. Not because I hate them, but because they've changed. We used to make these big dinners on Christmas Eve, and we invited friends and family along; there was music, laughter, chit-chat, dancing, drinking, and eating under the decorating light that shined blue, red, green each second. We were quite a few people in a small, cozy house, but we never cared, for we spent the best time together. December was one of my favorite months because of that; but after what happened, it was not like that anymore. My parents stopped inviting people in, even close family, and we had a regular dinner in silence, only the three of us sitting at a table as if we were strangers. We didn't talk, I think we were consumed by memories of her. I was, at least. Each time I sat on that table, my eyes filled with tears, and nobody noticed, as the image of Athena's smile appeared in my head, or what she told me that one time:

"Aster! Did you take my black skirt? The one I bought last week?" she asked, peaking out of her room, and when her eyes focused on me, I ran away like my life depended on it.

I'd tried to close my bedroom door, but she was always stronger than me. Athena got inside, attacking me with full-on aggressive tickling.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I screamed between laughter. "Please, stop!"

"Stop taking my things." She stopped tickling me, her eyes shining. Athena wouldn't have gotten mad at me, but she pretended she did.

I frowned at her when I recognized the shirt she was wearing.

"Hold on," I said, pointing at it, and she froze," Is that mine?"

Before I could get an answer, Athena ran out of my bedroom, giggling and squealing while I pursued her.

The best times where when we lived together. After she graduated from college and got married, she moved out with her husband, making it hard for us to keep contact. We would still meet from time to time and call each other, but at some point, they became less and less common. In those last months, we didn't talk at all. I thought she was busy with her administration job in a company; I pictured her answering calls and running around with papers pressed into her chest, and at the end of the day, coming back to the man she loved... How wrong I was.

I get out of my head when I feel something small and warm touch me. I hadn't realized I was so absorbed until now.

"Aster," Daia whispers. I realize her expression has changed, and she's right in front of my face, touching my cheek with her hand.

I try to look at her white hair and eyelashes, at her blue dress, and gold jewelry, but my vision is blurry. I close my eyes, tears slide down my cheek. When I open them again, I want to answer, but the words don't come out of my mouth; they are trapped by the invisible hand choking my throat and making me beg for air.

I shake my head. That's the only thing I do. My eyes keep being flooded with all the things I don't say, all the things I keep inside of me, ripping me apart.

"You can let it out, love. It's okay to let it out," she murmurs in such a soft, melodic voice. But I shake my head again; through each second that passes by, it gets harder to breathe.

"I can't." I manage to answer. It comes out as a choked sound. It's hard to understand, but Daia does.

She caresses my cheek and presses her forehead to it. I hear a muffled sound, like a whisper; unintelligible words that my fairy protector pronounces. I take a side glance at her, only to find that there is a whiteish energy surrounding her body, it grows biggger and bigger until it kind of detaches from her and it approaches me; now human being size. I feel it wrap around me. It's so warm, so, so warm, and welcoming. My body presses on to it when it realizes I'm being hugged; it must have craved this for a long time, and now that Daia is trying to comfort me, to hold me, I break apart.