Eclipsed Echo

CHAPTER TWELVE

SYHA

It took me a lot of courage to stand in front of the door of this house, which used to be my home at one time. My fingers tremble as they brush against the hard button of the doorbell, unsure if I should press it or not.

After leaving the party last night, my head felt so heavy that I went straight to sleep, hoping to escape the weight of my thoughts.

Now, my stomach churns. Is it from hunger, since I haven't eaten since last night, or is it simply the anxiety clawing at me? I can't tell. Now that I'm already here, all I know is that there's no turning back.

Just as I gathered the strength to press the button, the door creaks open slowly. I swallow hard, feeling a lump in my throat.

The door stops halfway as Grandma peeks out. The moment our eyes meet, a rush of emotions washes over me. My shoulders begin to feel heavy, and my heart races. It takes her a moment to recognize me, and then everything shatters. The door swings fully open and she rushes forward, running her palms over my shoulders as if she needs to make sure I'm real.

"Syha, my baby. Is this really you?" Tears stream down her cheeks. As I stare at her face, I realize how much older she looks, the lines of time etched deeply into her skin. I feel her hands trembling as they trace down my arms.

Before coming here, I had tried to prepare myself, telling myself to be strong and tackle everything with maturity. But the moment Grandma wrapped her arms around me, pulling me closer, I couldn't hold back. I encircled her with my arms, embracing her fully, surrendering to the moment.

She's the only one who's ever given me a sense of motherly love. My own mother was too busy to care about me since the day I was born. But Grandma filled that void, offering every kind of love she could muster. The way she tended to me, with patience and tenderness, made me forget the emptiness left by my mother's absence. As I hold her close, the tears I had fought against began to spill, mingling with hers.

Holding me tightly, Grandma sobs, "My dear, my precious child, you're back. I've prayed for this moment every single day. I thought I might die before seeing you again. I'm so glad to see you again." Her arms feels smaller, weaker than I remember.

We stand at the doorway, clinging to each other, the weight of separation and the joy of reunion washing over us. Tears stream down our faces. I pull back slightly and gently wipe the tears from Grandma's cheeks, and she reaches up to do the same for me, which only makes my own tears fall faster.

"I didn't know it would be this hard. I thought I could be strong," I sob, my voice breaking.

"Shh... it's okay, my baby. You're home now," she whispers, gently stroking my hair. "Come inside. Let me see you properly." She takes my hand, pulling me inside.

We settle onto the familiar couch in the living room, and I look around, taking in the place where I spent some unforgettable years of my life. The old TV I used to turn on right after school is still here, just across from me. The interior is almost the same, just a few things have shifted places, and some newer items have replaced the older ones. But the essence of the room, the feeling it used to give me before, is still here.

It still feels like home.

Grandma's hand moves over my face, down to my shoulder, then back up, tracing each feature as though she's afraid I might vanish if she look away. I lean into her touch, feeling the warmth that's never faded, even after all this time. "You've grown up so beautifully," she says, her voice thick with emotion.

I try to smile, but it comes out wobbly. "I missed you so much, Grandma."

She chuckles softly, but I can see the sadness lingering in her eyes.

"Why did you never contact me?" Her voice breaks as if it's held back years of pain. "I was worried sick, wondering how you were, what you were doing, if you were even okay. Your parents would call, asking if I had at least heard from you, if I knew where you had gone. But I could never give them an answer." Tears brim in her eyes, and I have no answers for her questions. My head falls and my gaze fixes on my lap. I can't even look at her.

"I couldn't sleep for weeks," she continues, "until Taimur told me you'd finally replied to him. He promised you were okay. I asked where you were, but he said you wouldn't tell him."

That's right. Taimur kept pressing me for details, but I didn't want anyone to know anything about me. I was angry at everyone, and everything tied to this town hurt too much back then.

"Why did you do this to me, Syha? I never once told you to leave." Her voice shatters as tears finally spill down her cheeks. "How could you leave me? Did you never think about how I would live without you?"

My heart breaks into pieces, seeing Grandma cry like this. I wish I could take away her pain, but I am the reason she's hurting. There's nothing I can do.

I cover my eyes with my hand as tears spill over my face. "I'm sorry, grandma. I'm so sorry." It's all I can manage to say.

Seeing me break down she pulls me into her arms, gently rubbing my back. "Oh, Syha, it must have hurt you so much. I can't imagine how much you bore alone." I cling to her, wrapping my arms around her and burying my face in her shoulder as memories from the past come rushing back. I know she understands the answers to all her questions, so she doesn't push anymore."

We stay like that for a long while, letting our tears flow, as if they could wash away the years of pain. Gradually, the heaviness in our hearts begins to lift, and we pull back, exchanging a quiet smile, worn but filled with understanding.

She brushes a tear from my cheek, her gaze softening as she studies my face. "Look at you," a note of worry in her voice. "You've gotten so thin. Are you eating properly? Did you even have breakfast?"

I try to smile but admit, "No."

Her eyes widen, and without another word, she hurries to the kitchen, as if by feeding me she can somehow mend all that's been broken. I then take the chance to roam around the house. My footsteps tremble as I approach the familiar porch, where each creak echoes memories of laughter and warmth. As I push open the door to what used to be my room once, the scent of nostalgia envelopes me. Standing here, I realize how much I'd been searching for this feeling—this warmth, this sense of belonging—even though I'd tried to bury it.

I take a few careful steps inside, fingers brushing over each item. The room is nearly unchanged, almost like frozen in time.

Then, my gaze falls on a photo, lying on the shelf. A young girl, around seventeen, sitting beside Grandma, smiling brightly, while hugging Grandma. Her face seems familiar yet new to me. Somehow, she reminds me of the little me I used to be.

Grandma appears in the doorway, watching me with a soft smile. "That's Eva," she says, noticing where my attention has drifted.

"Eva?" I blink, studying the photo again, recognition dawning slowly. "Oh, my... She's grown up so much. I almost didn't recognize her." It's the quiet little girl who used to live next door. She was so shy we barely saw her back then.

Grandma chuckles. "Yes, she's grown up. She's not the shy little girl anymore, believe me. She hardly leaves my side these days. Sometimes she even spends the night here." Her smile is full of warmth, but it stirs something bittersweet in me.

I glance between her and the picture, feeling a stab of guilt. "I'm glad you had someone here," I whisper. "I should have been the one by your side, but I was so wrapped up in myself that I didn't even reach out." I reach for her hand and press them to my eyes, as if I can somehow apologize for all the time lost.

She squeezes my hand gently. "It's all right. I'm just happy to have you here again. That's all I ever wanted.