Just Kidding | ✔️

Chapter 25: How Tragic

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"I'm home." I say to myself.

That is such a tragic meaning nowadays. Nothing like it used to be, so pure and gleeful. Home is no longer a home but only a house until I have somewhere else to go.

"You hungry?" Blake shuffles out from behind me once we've stepped through the front door. There's no banana bread. No "how was your day" and no grandma.

But hey at least Blake's got his car back.

"Sure." I throw my backpack down and make my way to the kitchen where my brother then stops me halfway. "I've got it, just sit down." He reassures me and too defeated to fight, I take a seat.

I am shutting down, I can feel it.
It's odd, there isn't just one single feeling but many at once. It's like I've gone into shock, or in this case, I've given myself over to the emptiness that's been edging it's way into my soul since my parents died.

But I promised myself, I promised my brother and my friends and grandma that I would stay strong. I don't think I can do that anymore though.

"Kyla. . ." fades in my brothers voice and I'm looking up to meet his eyes.

"Hm?" I ask.

"I asked what you wanted for dinner."

"I don't care." I shrug. Staring out at the sky full of dark and grey clouds as they roll over the hills and the sea. My attention is brought to the ringing of Blake's phone and I watch as, with a shaky hand he accepts the call. "Hello?" He clears his throat.

Two seconds go by. Then three and four and at the five second mark Blake's face says it all.

First goes his firm smile then his eyes close and his breathing quickens. His lips move but the words don't reach me, not until he's hanging up the phone with tears streaming down his face.

"It was about grandma wasn't it? She's dead." I'm surprised that the breaking of my heart rips through the air without a teardrop to follow. Instead I stand from my chair and I turn towards my brother with my head held high.

"They said it was a heart attack-" he nibbles on his lip but it quivers anyways. Throwing my arms around him, I hold him all the while his body racks with sobs.

She's gone. She's really gone. I think to myself when separating from Blake who now gets on the phone with who I presume is Amber. It seems he's growing closer to her, day by day. But me, well I'm not entirely sure who to call in this time of need or who to talk to. If I even want to talk. So instead I take my things and I walk up the stairs.

Shutting my blinds and drowning myself in darkness. I then light a candle and draw myself a bath. Ignoring the pang inside of my chest I remain impassive while filling up the tub, watching the water run and the bubbles build.

Stripping of my clothes I hop in and I wait until I'm nearly submerged in water to shut off the spout and settle into the bubbles.

I once believed life had this grand meaning to it, a purpose worth fighting for, but now I'm not so sure.

See, life is always, always going to get you down no matter what and the only ones who can survive in the end are the strong. Because even when their broken down and drained of hope they know they can survive.

Life's real purpose I suppose. . .is to fight until you just can't anymore. Like my grandmother. I hope she's with my parents where the cherry blossom trees grow, I imagine the pink leaves swaying in the breeze, my family perched beneath with a graceful smile and a youthful glow. It puts me at ease, just imagining them in a better place.

"Kyla?" Chloe's voice has me rising from beneath the surface that I'm not quite sure how long I've been floating beneath now. For a split second I wonder what it would be like to stay under the water until that fight is gone but it's gone the second I resurface. Turning to my left, there's chloe in the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" I wipe a hand over my face.

"Your brother texted me. He told me what happened and-" Chloe leans back against the wall with a look of sorrow. "I'm so sorry."

"I can bear it. I have to." I scrub myself with body soap.

"What? No you don't, Kyla."

"I do," I nod frantically, facing the concern ridden girl, "I do. Because I am strong, Chloe. I'm strong okay?" I tell myself more than her and it seems to work more on me anyways.

I have to stay strong. Because if I let myself feel the pain. I'm worried, what is there left for me?

I wake the next morning to the sounds of birds and a dim light seeping through my window. The clock beside me reads:

10:33am and I'm releasing a sigh of relief. Blake came into my room last night and forced me to stay home from school. Of course I didn't put up a fight. I didn't get much sleep but just the thought of relaxing at home settles the anxiety

Tomorrow is Friday and that thought alone tells me that possibly I can sleep through the entire weekend. Maybe wake up someone different on Monday.

But for now I'm empty and cold inside. Nothing but hollow.

I take myself downstairs and search for at least a granola bar to munch on and I end up finding a box of cereal in the pantry instead. Pouring myself a bowl with what's left of the 2% milk, I lean back against the counter and I watch the sun burn yellow through the dusty, olden windows.

This entire place, from the decorations to the walls to the stupid appliances to the goddamn floors is depressing. It's just a reminder that my grandmother is gone and she's not coming back.

Taking a bite out of the cereal I shrink back in disgust, nearly spitting it back out. It tastes bland with hardly any fruity flavor left.

Fruit loops, you have disappointed me.

I decide I'm not hungry any longer and set the bowl in the sink.

Staring into nothingness.