Girls Who Dreamt of Castles

Chapter Thirty-one

"Tears shed for another person are not a sign of weakness. They are a sign of a pure heart."
                            - José N. Harris.

As the hot water slowly hit on Adira's skin, it awakened an impulse to sing and not just any song, but her father's favourite.

She started humming as she watched the water wash away the sleek feeling of soap from her body. She stood motionless and expressionless for a while, every muscle of her body taut. Then she continued humming, only this time, slowly.

She had been home for a whole week. She didn't answer any phone calls or reply to any text messages, but she left her mobile phone on to see who cared enough to check up on her.

After she was done with bathing, she casually walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her emaciated body, her wet feet leaving footprints on the brown rug.

Her room had become dirty and dusty through the past days because of her inability to do work.

Life has been very depressing for her lately. She found it almost impossible to accept the fact that the only man she had ever grown to love was dead. Gone, forever. She found it hard to accept that she wouldn't be seeing him anymore, not even if she tried. Not even if she squeezed all the time she had in the world and tried a little harder.

She smiled and continued humming.

She was about to walk to her wardrobe when the front door banged impatiently.

"Adira, open this door now," Ndidi cried. She sounded very infuriated. "Why are you punishing us like this?"

Adira sighed and ignored her. She opened her wardrobe and took a few clothes from their hangers. It examined them before throwing them on her bed.

It has been three days in a row since her friends had come to visit her and she had, not even for once, answered the door. It wasn't something she enjoyed doing, it was simply something that needed to be done. She had to avoid them. She didn't want anyone to see how much of a mess she was. She was still angry. She didn't want pity.

"Do you know that knowing how you feel is enough punishment? Adira, please open the door."

Still silence.

"I'm tired of her," Anna whispered. "Why can't she just open the door?"

"Shut up," Brenda snapped. "Don't you know that she's grieving? What's your problem again?"

"Adira?" Brenda stroked the door. "I know you're there somewhere. Please open the door. I promise I won't say anything you wouldn't want to hear. Please."

There still was no answer.

Brenda continued. "Your father is dead, I know exactly how you feel, believe me." And she did. "But you have a life to live, you have a future. And you might not want to hear it, but you have us too. Please, don't throw it all away."

Ndidi stared at her and nodded for her to go on.

"Your mother has been calling me every single day," Brenda gave a rueful smile. "She's worried about you. Grace and David, your siblings. Do you remember them? They are worried too. I hope you haven't forgotten about them. Everyone wants to see you again. Adira they miss you. They have already lost someone. We all have," her voice was shaky and she had to hold her breath for a while. "Please, don't make us feel like we have already lost another person."

Adira stood motionless. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't do anything. She just stood there, like a statue; immobile, weak, lips parted and eyes downcast. She wanted to move but she just did not find the will to.

When there still wasn't any answer, Brenda hit the door. "Okay, let's go. We'll try again tomorrow," she whispered and hurried off, taking the rest of the girls with her.

After a few seconds, Adira finally found the will to move. She sat on the bed, her heart hammering in her chest, pounding as hard as ever. Fear, horror, panic, and a whole hurricane of emotions she couldn't even describe washed through her like lava. She knew she should be crying. She had lost her father a few days ago but no, she couldn't. She didn't want to stop being angry. Her father didn't deserve to die the way he did. She thought of many things. She thought that maybe if she was with him, maybe she could have avoided death. She could have saved him.

She wasn't herself anymore and she didn't know if that was even right. In all truth, she didn't know the right things to do anymore. It was a new feeling, the type she never even dreamt of having. It was like a fire was starting inside of her; killing her slowly, daring her to feel it better so it could burn her finish.

She sniffed and she laid on the pile of clothes she had scattered on the bed and waited for a sound that would tell her the girls had finally gone. A sound that told her she was alone.

Silence.

And when she felt it, she closed her eyes, sat up, and leaned forward so her hands pressed her face. The silence wasn't the only thing she felt. She also felt sadness and the sadness she felt in her heart told her that she had finally accepted her father's death. She let the anger wash away. She didn't want to feel like she had done something wrong.

She opened her eyes then shut it again and for the first time since her father died; she cried.

Adira had finally put on some new clothes; a simple nightgown and a pair of rainbow-coloured shorts.

She sat silently in her living room and watched the fan rotate slowly. It had become boring staying at home but she didn't want to leave the comfort of it. She closed her eyes and forced herself to sleep. She didn't sleep. She couldn't. Being awake was her body's way of telling her that she had slept too much.

The knock on the door too told her it was time to get up from the couch.

She got up lazily and fondled with her keys, then the door clicked open. She brought out her head to find Challee standing triumphantly at the door, a dozen of books cradled in his arms.

"May I come in?" he questioned meekly and she nodded. She stepped aside and allowed him to get in.

He stood close to her for a moment as if debating on something, then he strolled in and dropped the books on the centre table.

"I brought you gifts," he said simply.

She stared at the table. "I'll make coffee."

He answered with the nod of his head and sat down.

She got back from the kitchen with two mugs of coffee. She found Challee shamelessly snooping around the living room, his eyes darting from one family portrait to another.

She handed him his mug of coffee and sat down.

He followed.

They sat there for a while. Charles was watching her and she, she was staring into her mug.

"Sometimes I wonder about you," he uttered hoarsely.

The words bit into Adira's flesh. She remembered those words because she had said it herself. She now knew how he felt when she had said it to him.

She didn't want him worrying about her. She shook her head but didn't say anything.

"They are waiting."

She raised her head and gave him a look. He smiled and she understood what every expression on his face meant. She knew that even though he had said little, she would somehow listen to him and she somehow understood every word. He didn't say anything else throughout his stay.