A goodbye never said

Chapter 16

.

The night was dark, colder than Melissa had expected, and the hum of the car's engine was a constant backdrop to her swirling thoughts. She was only six, but something about this trip felt wrong. Usually, the long drives were filled with excitement, her imagination running wild about the adventures ahead. But tonight, the car felt empty, and she could sense the tension in the air, even if she didn't fully understand why.

Her parents had told her they were going on an "early vacation" to Italy, but as the miles stretched on, Melissa couldn't shake the feeling that this trip was different. The silence between her mom and dad in the front seats was too thick. Her small hands clutched her stuffed animal for comfort, the familiar worn fabric soft in her grip.

The quiet was broken by the sharp ring of her mom's phone, a sound that felt too loud in the heavy stillness of the car. Melissa turned her head, her eyes narrowing. Her mom answered, and her face immediately went pale, her voice low and shaking.

Melissa could only hear bits and pieces of the conversation, the words too muffled. But she heard Grandma's voice on the other end, speaking softly, words wrapped in sadness. And then, her mom's voice cracked, her breath shaky, as she said something that made Melissa's stomach twist.

"Melissa..." Her mom's voice trembled, but she still tried to speak gently. "We need to talk."

Melissa didn't like the way her mom said her name. It was too soft, too serious. Something was wrong. Her small hands began to tremble, the stuffed animal now forgotten as her chest tightened.

Her mom's voice faltered for a moment before she spoke again. "Grandpa... passed away, sweetie."

Melissa's heart stopped. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the words. She knew what "passed away" meant. It wasn't a new concept to her—her teachers had talked about it at school, and she'd heard adults say it before when pets or family members were mentioned. But hearing it about her grandpa... it was like the word itself didn't belong in the same sentence with him.

For a long moment, she just stared at her mom, wide-eyed, as the word hung in the air. Her tiny voice broke the silence, trembling with fear.

"Is... is he... dead?"

Her mom nodded slowly, her face pale, tears welling in her eyes. Melissa didn't know why, but something inside her broke. The world seemed to tilt, like the ground had shifted beneath her. She couldn't breathe. Her chest tightened painfully as the reality of the words sank in.

And then, the tears came. The loud, wrenching sobs that a six-year-old girl couldn't possibly contain. Melissa screamed, her small body shaking with the force of it. Her cries echoed in the car, raw and painful, too deep for a child to fully understand. The weight of the loss pressed down on her like a thousand pounds, and the sadness felt endless, too much for her tiny heart to bear.

She screamed until her throat was sore, until the tears seemed endless, until the darkness of the night outside felt like it was swallowing her whole. Her mom reached back, her hand trembling, but Melissa couldn't reach out. She didn't want to be touched, didn't want to be comforted. She only wanted her grandpa back.

The car felt like it was miles away from anywhere, and Melissa couldn't shake the overwhelming loneliness that wrapped around her. She cried the whole night.

The road stretched on forever, and her world felt smaller, quieter, and colder than it ever had before. Nothing would ever be the same again.

.

Melissa's small hand clutched her stuffed teddy bear so tightly, her knuckles white, as she stepped out of the car. The chill of the night air struck her immediately, but it wasn't the cold that made her shiver. There was a heaviness in the air that she couldn't explain, something that clung to the silence of the night. Her feet barely made a sound on the gravel as she followed her parents to the front door of her grandparents' house.