「 𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨 」

Sadness,Anger,Acceptance

She went back to the rented house. The rented house, an old two-story building tucked away in a forgotten part of town, had become a makeshift home during the whirlwind of her father’s illness and fading memories.

Just a few weeks ago, it echoed with frantic energy; she remembered the way Sid had flitted through the rooms, a distracted firefly, haphazard and charming. They had spoken of futures unformed, of dreams woven together as if they were invincible.

Now, those dreams felt like sand slipping through her fingers, an empty shape where warmth used to be.

-

She stepped inside the house, the creaking floorboards seeming to mourn with her as if they too sensed the loss. The air was stale, heavy with the scent of unkempt memories and the promise of endings.

For Sid to not be here when she needed him most was an abyss that tugged insistently at her heart. She wanted to scream, but the sound caught in her throat, thickened by grief.

As she walked into the small house they had shared, her heart thudded loudly in her chest. The walls, once adorned with fervent dreams, now loomed bleakly, their colour drained. It was a foreign place now, devoid of the laughter and hopes that once seemed so palpable.

A light flickered from the corner of the room, drawing her attention to the small desk where scattered papers lay. One paper stood out, its edges frayed, and her heart sank as she recognized Sid’s familiar handwriting swirled across the page.

“Dear Ayana,” it began, the ink smudged slightly as if he had rushed through his thoughts. Her trembling hands began to unfold the letter.

“First, let me say I’m so sorry,” it continued. “You deserve better than this. I should have been there today, and I should have told you sooner. I’ve held onto this secret like a stone in my pocket, hoping one day it would fade away. But it’s done too much damage, and its weight has become unbearable.”

The words blurred through a film of tears as she fought to keep reading.

“You must know the truth, Ayana. Your father loved you more than anything in this world. He always spoke about his dreams for you, how he wanted you to become everything you wished. But I—God, I can’t believe I’m saying this—I’m the reason he’s gone. It was me who let them get to your father,it was me who made you drink water that I put sleeping drug in.”

All air seemed to vanish from the room, leaving a tight knot in Ayana’s throat. She could hardly process the words spinning in her mind; they wrapped around her like harrowing chains.

“They threaten to kill my family but i have not realised that James,your father,is my family too. I never wanted this. I was careless—”
The letter blared Jiminy Cricket's idle whisper, reminding her that these were no longer just words but accusations.

“He meant everything to me, too, and this wretchedness will haunt me for the rest of my life. I wanted to be there for you at the burial. I wanted to tell you I’m sorry in person, but I don’t know if I’m brave enough to face you. You have every right to hate me.”

A rage she hadn’t known she possessed ignited within her, the breathing room of despair replaced by fire. How could Sid betray her father’s memory in such a grotesque manner? And to leave her alone in a house filled with ghosts of laughter and happiness, memories now tainted by sorrow and heavy anguish?

Ayana crumpled the letter tightly, her clenched fists turning white as she fought the whirlpool of emotions brewing inside. But as she paced the room, the letter fell from her fingers, landing on the floor with a thud—the letter that condemned Sid, but at the same time, seemed to bind her to him in a way she hated.

Her father always said that love could be both a blessing and a curse. Ayana had never understood until now. Love could connect and sever. It could build friendships and shatter them into pieces in the blink of an eye.

As the sun began to set outside the window, casting alarming shades of orange and red across the room, she felt a profound emptiness settle in her chest. She was alone now, a young woman robbed of her anchor in a country that felt as alien as the moon. But in the depth of that loneliness, a thought began to form—a tentative spark.

“Maybe I can’t change what happened. Maybe I can’t bring Dad back.” She paused, swallowing the lump in her throat. “But I can choose how to remember him.”

She took a deep breath, allowing her hurt to seep through but not suffocate her spirit. Ayana walked back to the letter and picked it up gingerly. She wasn’t ready to forgive Sid yet, but perhaps there was room to understand. She needed to grieve, to feel the painful truth of her father’s absence before she could fully choose whether to reach out to Sid.

But she vowed to honour her father’s memory as she had known it—a world filled with love, laughter, and above all, a flood of hope—even when everything seemed dark.