I often find myself pondering whether she truly comprehended the profound wisdom she imparted upon me. If only I could be granted a fleeting minute in her presence once more, I would hold her tightly, expressing my immeasurable gratitude for the invaluable lessons she bestowed upon me. The impressions she left upon my soul are indelible, destined to accompany me throughout the entirety of my existence.
---
"Hey Zeke," Ken's voice resounded as he entered the room, his presence cutting through the veil of my thoughts. I reluctantly tore my gaze away from the pages of one of Celeste's treasured old books.
"I'm fine, Ken. And yourself?" I responded, my voice carrying the weight of emotions that threatened to engulf me.
"I'm okay. I have something for you," he said, his words laced with a hint of vulnerability.
Setting the book aside, I turned my full attention toward him. "What is it?"
From the recesses of his pocket, Ken retrieved a dark grey beanie, Celeste's phone, and a cluster of seven bracelets. He presented them to me with a sense of purpose, an offering of solace.
"I initially took these for myself, but I believe you need them more," he explained, his voice a delicate blend of sorrow and determination.
A tremor quivered through my fingertips as I accepted the items, my eyes fixated upon the beanie—Celeste's favorite one. Uncertainty and gratitude tangled within me, leaving me unable to form a coherent response. "Are you sure?" I managed to stammer, the weight of this gesture overwhelming me.
Ken's gaze met mine, steadfast and sincere. "Yeah. Take them," he replied, conviction resonating in his words. "That's Celeste's favorite beanie, and I believe it should belong to her favorite person."
A feeble smile stretched across my lips, a fragile expression of gratitude intermingled with an undercurrent of grief. "Thanks, Ken."
With a solemn vow, I placed the beanie upon my head, pledging silently to never remove it unless circumstances demanded it. Its touch upon my brow brought a bittersweet solace, an intangible link to the profound connection I shared with Celeste.
As I began to process the significance of this moment, my phone buzzed, shattering the fragile tranquility. A text message from Luna, Celeste's sister, urged me to return home. Without questioning the reason behind the urgency, I turned to Ken, expressing my gratitude for everything, and collected the belongings from the table, each item laden with memories.
Unbeknownst to me, that fleeting interaction marked the final time I would step out of Celeste's house, bidding farewell to the sanctuary where memories whispered through the halls.
After a long, wearisome journey, I finally arrived at what I once called home. "Home sweet home," I whispered, setting Celeste's journals down with care before extending my hand to rap on the familiar door.
Luna, her countenance etched with dread, greeted me as she swung open the door. "Mom and dad are here," she revealed, her voice tinged with apprehension. "They bear ill news—for both of us."
Curiosity mingled with trepidation, tightening the knot in my stomach. "What is it?" I managed to utter, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Set your things down. They wish to speak with you," Luna instructed, her own anxiety apparent in her eyes. "They're waiting in the living room."
Complying with her request, I gingerly set aside the belongings I carried—an assortment of Celeste's mementos and the weight of my grief. Emotions clung to me as I made my way to the living room. There, I found my woeful excuse for parents seated, their faces betraying a sense of detachment from the turmoil that plagued my heart.
YOU ARE READING
Memories
Teen Fiction----- This book series was written by someone who was struggling mentally in high school. Things will be cringey and may not make sense. Harsh topics will be brought up. My only hope is that you have fun if you choose to read. Thank you. Thank you t...
