One Small Step | ✔

A Glimmer of Happiness

Diana opens the door and turns
on the light. We're both hushed.
Everything in his room is still the same.
Messy.

His blue soccer hoodie is still on his chair,
his jeans at the end of his bed.
His library book is still flipped to where
he left his bookmark.

You would have thought
he'd have remembered
to at least
return the library book.

His closet is still wide open.
I can picture him trying to decide
what would impress the most girls
at the party.

His great, final look,
that would be how he 
looked when he 
died.

On his desk is his laptop,
open,
but
battery dead.

There under his desk;
crumpled balls of lined paper.
I pick one up.
It's a draft of what he left me.

It's like the room is a scene in the movie
and it's just been paused.
I can practically see Adam
sitting at the desk, crumbling every ball.

The only thing that has been touched
is the waste basket. Emptied.
the lamp 
and the light turned off.

It's all too much.
I numbly walk over and sit on his bed,
reaching for his hoodie on the chair
and burying my face into it.

I inhale the
faint scent
of my best friend,
trembling.

Despite how long it's been,
it still smells exactly like him.
Diana's lower lip is quavering
and she hurriedly brushes away tears.

"I guess we should return the library book,"
she jokes weakly.
I give a small nod
and somehow we both manage a smile.

I stand up and look at his desk,
scattered pens and coins.
A binder lays open under all the mess.
It's his school work.

Diana flips through it
and chuckles softly to herself
"He wasn't exactly smart,
was he?"

No, he wasn't a genius,
but he did well enough
to pass with just over
80 per cent.

I glance at the essay
Diana's holding and grimace.
It was an essay on 
Robert Frost's Poems.

Poems are completely opinions.
Tests on poems are complete
crap because teachers could mark it
based on what they think it means.

For all they know,
they might
just be
wrong.

My hands shake as I try to hold 
the paper up so I can read it.
Diana notices
and says to me,

"You know, I think it'll take a week
to get through Adam's stuff. What 
do you think about you staying
over so we can do it together?"

Diana isn't unable to do it.
She's strong. Yet, I know
she wants me to have a sense of 
peace, and she wants company.

 So I nod.
"Alright. But,"
I look down at my outfit and
she realizes what I do.

"We're going to have to 
take you to get a few outfits for 
this week."
Diana says, smiling.

"My brother gave me some cash
so it's fine. I can run there now."
I say, 
but she shakes her head.

"Tallulah, I haven't been to the
mall in ages. Besides, I never had
quality time with Adam. And I always
wanted a daughter."

A daughter.
Carina may have been a mother
figure to me, but suddenly,
a need for a real mother overwhelms me.

"Okay,"
I say
and a tears gather
in my eyes.

Diana hugs me before
saying, 
"We'll figure it all out.
It's going to be okay."

When my brothers said that,
I didn't believe them.
But something makes me feel like Diana
might be telling the truth.

If a mother can say that
after her child's death,
I know that
one day it just might be.

"Diana, how can you
be so reassuring,
so confident that it will be?"
I ask her tentatively.

She smiles,
"Because if I didn't live, Adam wouldn't
be happy with me. Adam was obsessed
with the concept of living in the present."

That sounds exactly like Adam.
"How did you know that? You didn't exactly keep in touch with him."
I say, my eyebrows furrowing.

This time her eyes crinkle sadly.
She brings out her phone again
and shows me the emails.
Each and every one of them.

Adam
Adam
Adam
Adam

His name fills the inbox.
Only a week goes by before there's another.
None of them are
replied to.

"Why didn't you ever write back?"
I ask her.
Adam died believing that
his mother never cared.

"Richard had a grasp on Adam.
He wanted him to believe I didn't care,
that Adam was powerless and had to depend
on him to live because he was the only one there."

She takes a deep, calming breath.
"It was how Richard was raised, and Richard
wanted to feel needed, to have the upper hand.
If I let Adam know, he'd be beaten senseless."

Adam was amazing at keeping secrets,
he had a crazy good poker face.
But I suppose if the mother you thought 
abandoned you, didn't, you'd slip easily.

It's no excuse, but if that's what she believes,
alright.
If only my father is doing whatever he is
for the sake of us, I just might be able to forgive him.

"If you want, you can grab some of
Adam's clothes from his closet
to wear tonight. We'll go shop tomorrow morning,
first thing." she promises.

"You can sleep in the guest room,
but you'd have to bring over Adam's covers
and his pillow. I know it might make you a little
uncomfortable, but..." she gives a sigh.

I shake my head quickly, not wanting
to bother her.
"It's fine. I'll just stay in here."
She smiles at me before closing the door.

Now that Diana's gone,
I sink to the ground,
stifling my need
to cry.

Grabbing Adam's hoodie,
I trace the name "Bishop"
on the back of the hoodie
over and over again.

I feel the tears in the corner of my eyes
but I fight them back,
silently pleading
that Diana doesn't come back soon.

As if on cue,
a text comes in.
It's from
Roman.

He's at a party
and they're all smiling.
The photo is accompanied
with a word. Smile

My throat closes up and for the first time since Adam's death, I feel a genuine glimmer of happiness in my chest.