「 𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨 」

'Till Flowers Bloom

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a muted glow across the cemetery as if even the heavens were mourning. Ayana stood at the edge of her father's grave, the sombre site surrounded by weathered stones and wilting flowers. An old oak tree, with its twisted branches, loomed over her as if offering sad solace.

She could feel the chill in the air, clinging to her skin like the unshakable grief that had settled in the pit of her stomach.

Just a few days ago, everything had felt so overwhelming. The winding path of life had sped up suddenly-the diagnosis, the hospital visits, and then the unbearable moment when the doctor had looked her in the eye and simply said, "I'm sorry." In a matter of weeks, her world had irrevocably shifted.

She had filled the roles of caregiver, daughter, and now, a mourner, battling with emotions she didn't yet fully comprehend.

The funeral was a bleak affair, held on a Tuesday afternoon. The faint sound of low murmurs accompanied the sorrowful music, blurring into the distant rustle of leaves.

Ayana felt disconnected from it all. It was as though she had stepped into someone else's nightmare, her father's face flashing through her mind-smiling, laughing, igniting her childhood days with warmth.

Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling of something missing. There was one person she hadn't seen: Sid, her father's best friend. The absence of his familiar presence gnawed at her heart. He had been a constant staple in her life-a steady hand when storms arose, always filled with stories that left her and her father in fits of laughter.

Feeling a sharp pang of loneliness, Ayana's thoughts circled the burial process, wondering if it was customary to bury emotions alongside bodies. She ached to see Sid, as if his presence could somehow bridge the expansive void that had now opened within her.

The ceremony trickled forward. Her father's casket gleamed dully in the waning light, an unyielding reminder of the fragility of life.

As the officiant recited the eulogy, Ayana's mind wandered to happier days-the adventures, the lessons, the indelible bond that had formed between a daughter and her father. She involuntarily clenched her hands, drawing her attention to the small silver ring on her middle finger. It was a gift from her father-his way of telling her she would always have a piece of him with her.

Suddenly, the officiant's voice tapered off, and Ayana was jolted back to the present. The casket was slowly lowered into the earth, and her heart raced.

She felt exposed, her grief raw and unrelenting. Around her, people began to bow their heads, and she instinctively followed suit, but her thoughts drifted once more to the missing figure of Sid.

-

As dusk enveloped the day, Ayana felt increasingly disoriented. She clung to the hope of seeing Sid-hoping he would show up and offer that familiar, comforting presence. But there was no sign of him, and an unasked question began to gnaw at her.

Had he too succumbed to grief? Would joyless days morph into a black hole of sorrow from which neither of them could emerge?

-

The late afternoon sun cast a golden hue over the cemetery, and a few scattered clouds floated lazily in the sky. Ayana stood as still as a statue before her father's grave, her heart heavy with the memories that danced in her mind.

She could almost hear the echoes of laughter, the comforting notes of a father's voice guiding her through life's challenges. But the silence of the grave was palpable, a chasm where those beloved sounds once thrived.

"Why did you have to go?" she whispered, her voice barely carried by the gentle wind. "Life feels so hollow without you."

She knelt beside it, placing her palm on the cold, hard earth, yearning for a touch that could bridge the vastness of absence. It was as if she were trying to reach into the earth itself, to find the warmth of his spirit lingering beneath the surface. The sleek, grey gravestone bore her father's name-the name she carried like a banner, proud and heavy.

"Princess," her father had always said, his eyes sparkling with love. "You are the future-a future I won't see, but one I believe in fiercely."

A sudden breeze rustled the leaves overhead, and she closed her eyes, imagining his laughter lifting off the ground like dandelion seeds. "You should get out more, explore," he would tell her, every weekend dedicated to adventure. "Life's too short to be afraid."

But fear had wrapped its tendrils around her heart since his passing, suffocating the joy that once flourished. Ayana had spent days in self-imposed isolation, watching life go on without her. She tried to coax herself out, telling it was time to heal, but every invitation felt like a haunting reminder. Today, though, she was here, seeking a reprieve from her sorrow.

As she knelt, a memory struck her like a tidal wave-a moment from her childhood. It was a sun-soaked afternoon, her father holding her hand as they walked through a grassy field.

"If you can picture it," he'd said, "you can achieve it. Dream big, Ayana."

She remembered how the world had seemed so vast then, filled with possibilities. Today, however, the enormity of adulthood loomed over her, dimming her dreams to mere shadows. That spark of hope her father had fostered in her felt extinguished.

"Why did I let that flicker die?" she murmured aloud, her voice trembling. "You always believed in me. How can I believe in myself?"
Her hand pressed deeper into the cold dirt, as if seeking warmth from the earth.

Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked rapidly, making a silent vow to carry his spirit with her. "I miss you, Dad. I want to make you proud. But I don't know how to move past this."

The wind whipped stronger, stirring the leaves to a symphony of whispers. Amidst her turmoil, it sounded almost like encouragement. She could feel a shift within her; it was as if the very essence of her father surrounded her, nourishing her with unwavering love.

As she turned to leave, the breeze caressed her cheeks, as if her father's spirit was whispering back, affirming her promise. Each step away felt lighter than the last, as the sun dipped lower in the sky, illuminating the path before her.

Behind her lay a grave, but ahead stretched a world brimming with untamed possibilities-a world where she would weave her father's wisdom into her own tapestry of life.

In that moment, her phone buzzed in her pocket, interrupting the stillness. It was a message from an unknown number. Hesitant, she opened it.

The message read, "I'm so sorry for your loss. I wish I could have been there today. Your dad was my best friend, and I wish I could have said goodbye. I'll always cherish the time we shared."

It didn't take long for Ayana's heart to realise it was from Sid. A surge of anger bubbled up within her-he had chosen not to come. The very person she had hoped would be there in this moment of despair was absent.