The Ghost of You

Chapter 17 - Cai's POV

One Year Ago

The heater was on but it was freezing. My suit was thick enough to combat the coldest day Northern Spain had to offer, yet all  I could feel were chills. With the number of bodies in the room you would think it was well-insulated, however, I had never felt such temperatures.

I sat curled up on the edge of the stage watching the empty stand that once housed my mother's coffin. I stared at it noticing the chippings caused by the struggle to place the heavy coffin down. Above the stand hung a picture of the most beautiful woman Earth was lucky to have.

A picture I had taken. There she was standing in a daisy meadow with her strong brown curls dangling on top of her shoulders. Her bright blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight. Her smile illuminated the picture more than the sun ever could. She looked happy.
She was happy.

For the past three hours of the wake, all I did was sit and stare at the photo of my once-alive mother. I begged for the woman in the picture to come back. All I wanted was to be with her. All I wanted was my mother.
But, she was gone.
She had left me all alone.

While people throughout the wake and the funeral would flock to my side to exchange condolences, I refused to speak to them. I nodded but didn't speak. God, how could I speak after my whole world had crashed?

I hadn't spoken a word since the day she died. Since the day I woke up and felt her cold hand on the hospital bed. Since the day her heart beat was flatlined. Since the day the disease took her from me.

The room was full of faces who claimed to know her. However, I didn't know 80% of the people who were mourning her. I overheard people telling stories of what she was like but I knew they were lying. They were making up stories to hide their guilt for their absence in her life. The people I did know consisted of our neighbours, Rio and some of the patients she had truly bonded with - those were the people who received invites from me. But the other I don't know what gave them the confidence to show their faces.

I leaned back on the stage before rubbing my eyes.

"Seems like there are a lot more people here than at the funeral," Rio said, coming to join me. When he sat down beside me, he held a bottle of water in front of me waiting for me to take it. I acknowledged it but quickly turned my attention back to my dead mother. He sighed before placing the bottle in front of me.

"I think she would've wanted this" he said, "She would've wanted you to know you're not alone".

I hadn't even spoken to Rio since that day. I had cried - multiple times and only in front of him. However, I hadn't said a word to him. Even to my best friend, I didn't know how to process any of this.

"It was a beautiful ceremony, Tio" he continued, "I know it was hard to plan but... well done".

I didn't have to plan anything. Ever since I found out my mother was sick, the last thing I had in mind was planning her funeral. Because I didn't want to accept that that scenario would ever become reality.

My mother knew that. So, she planned her own funeral - she made a whole document of what she wanted and sent it to her lawyer without telling me. I wasn't mad at her because she did it without telling me, I was more mad that she gave up before even trying to beat the disease. I never wanted her to give up, I wanted her to keep fighting. Even with all the pain that came with her treatment, I was never ready to lose my mother.

All the years of tests, frequent doctor visits, constantly being told there's nothing they could do. All of that and I still wasn't prepared to lose my mother. How could anyone prepare themselves to lose the person who brought them into this world? The person who made life worth living. The literal reason I lived.
I lost her.
She left me.
She was gone.