To Let Go

An Epilouge

I gave her a choice:

I told her she could recover and live in a....happier manner. Or, she could let anorexia send her to the grave. But instead, she chose the latter. I'm sorry it ended like this. I'm sorry Leo or Finn or Caroline or John never got closure from Emma.

But along the way, life found it's way of giving closure.

For Finn, it came when she was told her sister was gone. It came hard, but then disappeared into peace.

"...Emma Chota is dead." The Doctor told her. Finn's tears left drops on her sister's blue-black arm.

"Did she feel pain?" She asked him, squeezing her eyes shut.

"No." The doctor's word lifted the heavy silence.

"Thank God," Finn said. She stood, and let go of Emma's cold hand. She leaned over, and kissed her dear sister's forehead. "Ever since I was eleven, I knew you had an eating disorder. And now, the very think I kept secret for you, has now taken your life. I love you. So now I let you go. You're home now, safe and sound."

For her parents, it came at the wake. When the realization she really died had hit them.

"So that's it." Caroline wiped away a tear that fell.

"She's gone. Emma Chota is really gone," John looks down. "And she's in a better place. And she found sweetness in death. Bliss in the midst of hopelessness." Caroline grabbed and squeezed John's hand.

"She got the thing she wanted most. Freedom."

And for Leo, it never came. He was never able to let things go easily.

"You didn't show up to the briefing." Leo looks up from the laptop, a heavy expression fixed on his face.

"I'm fine."
That's what Emma would have said.
"Everything's fine."
But is it really?

"Uh huh. And that's what your girlfriend said. Before she kicked the old bucket."

"Don't. Ever. Speak of her. Like that."

"You need a reality check." Leo slammed his fist down on the table, rising up before buckling down.

"Like hell I do!"

"Leo, man, you need to chill out." His Peter looked at him like he was an animal. And maybe he was. In that moment, he was something else.

"I....I need....I need her."

"Leo, she's gone," the coworker shakes his head. "And you need to say that." Leo scoffs.

"Now?"

"Now. Out loud."

"Why would I do that?" Leo rolls his eyes, fighting back tears.

"I lost someone too, okay?" The friend sat beside him, and put a hand on his shoulder. "I lost my wife to a car crash. And afterwards, I couldn't let go. But then I realized, I had to. No point in trying to reverse the past." Leo sighs.

"She's dead." He mumbles.

"What was that?" The brother teases.

"Emma Chota is dead." Leo says louder, before crumpling to the ground.

And in these following days, weeks, months, years, they had started to come to terms with the fact their beloved sister, daughter, lover, friend, Emma Chota, was peacefully six feet under. And it brought Emma great closure, to know her family cared. Still cares.

Finn and Leo reconnected after Leo was honorably discharged from the Marines. They ended up in the same street, actually. They got closer. They had a deep understanding of each other's pain. They knew how it felt to be effect by anorexia.

Every year, they go back to Los Angles, back to Ocean Park to visit. And afterwards, they go to the cemetery. And bring a bouquet of red, purple, and white flowers to her grave. Red, the color of her hospital band. Purple, the color for anorexia and eating disorder awareness. White, the color of peace.

On June 6th, like always, they brought the bouquet. And Emma's red band. They placed them on the grave stone, and looked around. The cemetery was peaceful. It was calm, tranquil. Just like their minds and hearts.

They were at peace.

Because they finally found closure.

They finally found a way.

To let go.

And live.