Amelie the Shut-In

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After that day that we spent in the creek, Chandler and I didn't speak. It wasn't easy for me to be around someone who was with me when Madeleine was buried, and he seemed to understand. Chandler moved on and became so immersed in his guy friendships I barely got to see him from a distance. From what I understand, Chandler got a job. Even though he was only thirteen, he got a job working as an assistant to a merchant in the market.

Instead of reconnecting with him, which I actually wanted to do, or spending time with my other friends, I stayed inside my house as a shut-in. I didn't even want to look out a window because everything in the world reminded me of Madeleine. My parents didn't understand my pain. 

"Amelie, it's a beautiful day and you've been upset for too long. Madeleine would want you to go outside," my father said to me twelve days after her burial and fifteen days after her death. I was under my bed when he said this to me.

There were two things wrong with his comment.

1) He acted like my pain was something that would be a problem for a few days and then it would pass just as quickly as it had come, just like the common cold or something. 

2) He acted like he knew Madeleine. That was not true, because he only met her two or three times. I knew Madeleine better than anybody else in the world, better even than her family. Madeleine was pretty egotistic, so I knew she would have wanted me to focus on her for a while longer. Madeleine knew me, and she knew that healing would be a process that would probably take weeks longer. She would have wanted me to take all of the time I needed to heal before I did anything else. That way, when I actually did something worth doing, I wouldn't be completely broken.

"Maurice, leave her alone. If she wants to spend her time here, let her," my mother said as she appeared in the doorway. It wasn't her words that were insulting. It was the tone. She was sarcastic and snotty, meaning that her intent was like that of my father's. I was caught off guard; my mother was normally my ally when I stood against my father.

My father wasn't a bad person, he just had trouble understanding emotions. His parents had passed away long before I was born, and he cried for a while, but moved on all at once, according to him. I wasn't sure why he was this way, but I didn't question it. My mother, on the other hand, was a very caring and understanding person. I never learned why she acted the way that she did.

"Fine! If you want me to move on and plaster on a fake smile, I will do it. I'll go and focus on all of the sunshine and rainbows in the world when I'm still hurt!" I shouted before I burst out of the room in tears.

Neither one of my parents dared to follow me. I had occasional outbursts, and they knew that I would cool down in several minutes. I charged towards the rose-lined path, but I was met with a sight that didn't help my whirlpool of emotions inside my mind.

In the twelve days since I last walked the path, the roses had begun to wilt. I shouldn't have been surprised. After all, it was already the end of July, meaning that their season was up. But as I was in the moment, I didn't think about the natural way of the world. The dying flowers only made me think about Madeleine more. The only difference between Madeleine and the flowers? 

Madeleine wouldn't return. Ever. 

I was so distraught I barely heard the voice behind me. 

"Amelie?"

I didn't turn around. I recognized the voice.

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