To Be A Bougainvillea

Chapter 27

Aurelia's grandmother had threatened to send her to Coventry. 

But Aurelia didn't care. She could send her to a mental asylum for all she liked. Perhaps that would be for the best since even Aurelia couldn't grasp what was happening to her. Days ago, she had suddenly stormed into the kitchen and started shattering all the plates and cups, the cracks echoing deafeningly as the glass chips whirled in the air for a nanosecond before abruptly crashing down. The cook began screaming and the maids started crying but Aurelia just stood still, staring silently at the broken pieces. 

And then after that, she poured gasoline over the manor garden and ignited a roaring sea of scorching red and orange to burn all the delicate, sweet-scented flowers. They didn't deserve to live. Not when the most beautiful blossom was gone forever. 

But as tendrils of smoke clouded the air and shrieks exploded as fire extinguishers were rapidly bought forth, she saw that a small patch of sunflowers hadn't been licked by the flames. It was the very patch Hana had planted years ago and on that day, the bright yellow petals swayed with hearty life, almost as if they couldn't say goodbye. 

And as the wind howled ferociously, Aurelia realised that if she had been empty before, she was now completely hollow. 

The pain, on the other hand, didn't set in for a while. Perhaps due to her denial. Or perhaps due to the fact that she slept for days just to avoid the ice cold reality. There was nothing holding her up. She had no energy, no will, no stamina. She had nothing to live for anymore. 

But the night before her funeral, Aurelia staggered into Hana's room for the first time since she was shot. Everything looked so normal - the perfectly made bed, the black and white photographs on the pinup board, the curtains pulled up as always - that Aurelia felt such a strong sense of amnesia that she couldn't grasp the difference between a nightmare and reality. 

"Hana?" She called out. She knew what to expect but her heart thudded, desperately waiting for Hana's tender reply.

"What's wrong, Lia?" Aurelia swiveled her head so fast she might have cracked it. 

"Hana. I-it's you." Aurelia's eyes froze when she saw a seven year old Hana, clutching her ducky to her chest with a big smile lit on her face. She was wearing the same ivory dress she wore when they first met with her hair in two little pigtails. 

"Of course it's me, silly." She gave her a toothy grin before it faltered, "Why are you crying?" 

"You-" Aurelia chest heaved violently as she stepped closer to her, "You're alive." 

"Alive or dead, does it really matter?" The seven year old Hana transformed into thirteen year old Hana. She still had that smile on her face but her hair was now longer and loose, showcasing her brand new pierced ears. 

"I need you alive." Aurelia sobbed. Everytime she took a step forward, Hana would take a step backward. "Please - pleace come back to me. I can't survive without you." 

"Have you forgotten?" Thirteen year old Hana vanished and in came a glamorous eighteen year old in her favourite maroon blouse. "I'm always here." She placed a pale hand on her heart, bangs covering her eyes. 

"That's not enough," Aurelia wept, stepping closer with trembling footsteps, "Please. Return to me. Or- or take me with you. I don't care as long as I'm with you." 

"Don't you understand, Lia?" The eighteen year old became twenty-four year old Hana. Her bangs now reached her ears and she was in the light blue dress she died in. "I'm only dead when you forget about me. So as long as you keep me in your heart, I will live in you, by you and with you until the very end." 

Hana smiled for the last time before outstretching her hand and when their fingertips touched, the aching loneliness disappeared, momentarily.

But when Aurelia opened her eyes again and saw nothing but her shadow, she sank to her knees and sobbed until no tears came yet the emptiness and overbearing grief remained like an old friend. 

________

The funeral was a quiet affair. No one cried or yelled or wept. The flowers were dull and the casket was too flashy for it to even be a casket. No music was played and the winds were silent. Aurelia briefly wondered what Hana would've said about her deadbeat funeral. 

"A funeral's a funeral." She could imagine her rolling her eyes, "You can't glamorise things like that, can you?"

Only then she realised that it wasn't just Hana's funeral. It was her baby's as well. But no one knew of that and Aurelia hadn't uttered a breath about it to Cassandra nor Franz. Hana didn't want them to know and Aurelia respected her decision. 

One by one, the waxy faces and black wearers left, insincerely murmuring condolences as if they actually knew Hana in person. Aurelia had heard that the Count whom Hana had been engaged to had come but she had avoided him at all costs. She didn't want to bring back her old demons. 

It wasn't long before she was the only left at Hana's grave. Only then she let her tears spill as a mental tornado erupted within her. And just as pain tore her insides, she felt someone's hand lace with hers. 

"I tried to come by and visit you," Dietfried's voice was deep and throaty, almost as if he was in pain himself, "but your maid said you weren't well." 

"I-I wasn't." She wiped her eyes with the back of her left hand. 

"You look as if you haven't eaten for days" His brows knotted with concern as he glanced at her, "You're barely able to stand."

She tried to blink back her tears but they kept pouring out like a thick, hot waterfall. Dietfried's face softened. 

"C'mere," He pulled her into his arms and gently rubbed her back, his arms strong and protective around her frail body. "You's going to be okay." He whispered in her ear, "Believe me."

Her shoulders shook as she hung onto him, his muscle lean and hard against her own.  "I want to die." She cried in a whisper. 

He tensed. "No, you don't. You just want an escape from all these painful feelings. And I know living feels so much harder than dying but despite that, you will live on." His rough voice broke a little, "And so will I."

When he said that, the Bougainvillea's housekeeper's words drifted into her head. How long can you hold onto remnants of simple strength when there's nothing worth living for? 

That's when she realised that both of them had given each other something worth living for and he wanted her to honour that through her laments and hardships just as he would. They were both survivors of blood lust and hatred and despite everything, Dietfried, who had been through it repetitively, stood strong and confident that he would live on.

But this time around, he wanted to stand and live and revive with Aurelia. And through her agony and grief, she felt a dash of honour and gratitude.  

So she wrapped her arms around his torso, her eyes still brimming and shoulders still trembling as he kissed her temple with such force that he might have bruised his own lips. 

But it was sweet comfort and she gladly took it.