kiwi || h.s [edited]

Chapter Three

Some days are just better than others. It's life. We can't expect to be continuously in a state of happiness. And luckily, we don't have to endure an eternity of sadness. Because even within the darkness, some days are better than others. There are a few days where I am just grateful that I survived. This was one of them. I watched the sun pierced through the thin curtains. My knees pressed into my chest and dug my nails into my arms.

It had been two years. Two whole years.

But today it felt like it had just happened. As if the night had just occurred. My alarm dragged me from my daydream and reminded me that I had a job to attend. And as much as I wanted to take the sheet that laid at my feet and pull it over my head. I didn't feel up for facing the cruel world, but a commitment was a commitment.

I crept across the floor and dug out a black shoebox I had hidden in the back of my closet. I flipped the lid open to reveal a collection of memories I had hidden for a reason. Today his absence felt heavier than ever, but it was morning. The evenings were always the worst. The box fell from my trembling hands onto the floor. A loud thud echoed. I was so consumed by my own thoughts that I hadn't noticed the ocean of tears gushing down my face until I felt their wet indents on my hands.

My legs gave in under the weight of my heavy heart and I collapsed onto the wooden floor. Weakened. Panic was at hand. Fear was at hand. Grief was at hand. All those debilitating emotions were at hand and I knew far better than to wage an unwinnable war. It was better to just sit in the tension and wait until it passed. Days like these were the worst. It was on these days that even survival felt like punishment.

I remember that night like the caverns on my skin. I had fought with all my might. All the grit. But it wasn't enough. So instead I became still. My body shut down as the tears poured and my voice becomes obsolete. I never knew when it ended. I only remember the moment when my brain gave me the pleasure of consciousness again.

My soul was crippled by remembrance.

I stuck my quivering hand into the box and pulled out a dainty film canister. My fingernail popped the lid and inside a dainty glistening jewel wobbled around. I pulled out the silver rile. Magnificent in stature but the memory it presented was repulsive.

I took in a deep breath, allowing the air to expand my chest, before I threw the film canister back inside the box. The panic had seized, and survival was now at hand. I walked over to the glass door and stared longingly at the sea. The waves crashed. Over and over again. Like a relentless body of movement. The chaos it naturally possessed brought me a sense of peace. That something so chaotic and terrifying could be peaceful and serene reminded me that I too could find peace in the chaos of life.

Not much later, I stood outside of Kiwi and once again did not allow myself too long to ponder the name. it left many questions looming in the back of the mind. I walked into the coffee shop and found the man with the head of curls sipping from a white mug. I eyed him nervously as Anne exited the kitchen.

"Ah, Amelia, right on time," She smiled.

I glanced at the man who eyed me cautiously as I waked toward Anne.

"That man sipping coffee over there is Harry," She gestured.

"Harry, this is your new trainee, Amelia"

"Hello," I have to admit, he's got brilliant eyes.

I gave him a hesitant nod before Anne left us, it would be another hour or two before they'd open for business and Harry took this time to show me the ropes. From the various coffee machines to how they washed dishes. I found it fascinating that there was a specific routine in place for washing dishes, but I guess there's a reason for that.

"Harry," I began.

"Ah, she speaks," Harry chuckled.

"I wanted to, uh, apologize for the other day – on the beach," I felt extremely awkward, but I needed to squash the incident within me. He looked at me with confusion, but the perplexity fell away soon enough. He came to the realization that I was the stranger that run away from him.

"It's alright, we all have our days" He shrugged.

I nodded my head as if to acknowledge that we had dealt with our awkward past and for the remainder of my shift, I became his shadow. It was interesting to watch a human being go about life in such a nonchalant and easy-going manner. I was almost envious.

When I finally drove home that evening, I was weighed down with exhaustion of the day's events. Grateful, despite my aching feet. Grateful to have something fill the void of the day,

But mostly grateful because Andrew had not appeared.