Tears Unnumbered [EDITING]

Aoife

Aoife makes no sound save for a few coughs as she enters the house. Discreetly wiping away specks of red, she calls out to her father proclaiming she is home before she retires for the night. She does not speak a word of the banshee to anyone. Her pillows and covers alone remain testimony to the tears that were shed that night- a final act of acceptance. Banshees are creatures whose belief is held sacred in the family; to claim otherwise is blasphemy among her people. She knows of only one family who refuses to believe the legend- the family of her mother's estranged sister. Her aunt and her two cousins- Aodhán and Nolan.

She finds no sleep that night. It eludes her grasp. She has always known that she might die within the next few weeks but like any other child; she knows that she has been harbouring hopes of living to see more. No matter how small that hope had been, having it vanish almost seems to rip the world off from beneath her feet. She hopes she has done her best to hide that feeling. It is only now, in the meagre comfort of her bed, that her fears truly come forth. She thinks of all the things that have made her happy in an attempt to find some peace. She reminisces the bittersweet memories of Nolan bouncing her around as though she meant the world to him. Those were days of relative joy when her mother had still been alive and all was well in her little world. She had always sought the attention of her brothers and Nolan had gladly given it to her. Aoife yearns for those days to come back. She knows without a doubt that if he sought her out, she'd gladly run into his arms once more.

A few hours into the night, she decides that she has mourned enough. Crying will not change her fate. Come dawn, she will start anew. She will do what she had told the banshee. She would live her life the way she wanted to, before it was hers no longer. Despite the fear and anger that she harbours towards the girl in the woods, she does not hold her responsible. She has grown up hearing tales of how many people wished to know when the reaper came for their souls. She knows how much it would have meant to them to die in peace with no regrets hanging around their necks like the albatross. With her own life drawing to a close, she thanks the banshee for giving her the chance that she had never even dreamed of- a chance to live before she dies.

The only thoughts that fill her mind are of what she wishes to do. She would have been a girl of many dreams, but being born into suffering tends to lower one's expectations. Some dreams, she has always known, will ever remain her childish fantasies, but there are some things she wishes to do before she falls into an eternal sleep. Her first thoughts turn to her cousins. She has not seen Aodhán in a long while, just as she hasn't met her aunt. She had stumbled across Nolan a few days ago and that was the last time she spoke to any of that family. Aoife does not want to pretend as if that part of her family never existed, and suddenly, she knows what it is that she wants first.

As the first rays of sunlight light filter through windows, she throws herself off the bed and runs off to the next street, calling out from the door that she will soon be back. She takes with her a bunch of blossoms that she remembers from her childhood as her aunt's favourite. She runs like she never has before. She runs like a doe, for the first time relishing the wind in her hair as it sways gently in the morning breeze. She sees beauty in things in a way she never has before. In the golden rays of the sun, in the specks of green plants scattered across the cities, in the small flower buds that would grow into beautiful flowers she may never get to see, and in the unfiltered joy on the faces of little children as they chase after butterflies, hoping to keep that beauty for themselves. It is a consequence of awaiting death; she tells herself, as she wonders if other children her age would ever think the way she now does.

For one who has never been to the small dwelling in many years, she remembers the way surprisingly well. A small part of her asks her to turn away. She does not know what words will greet her as she knocks on Aunt Alma's door. With a resolute nod of her head, she takes the last step and knocks on the door. Twice. Seconds of precious life tick by, and each moment, a hundred different words occur to her. What would she say to someone who wanted nothing to do with her family?

Aoife expected many things as she stood at that doorstep, but Aodhán opening it was definitely not one of them. For one, she had expected him to be away from home. Every 'healthy' member of the family was usually off looking for either food or cure. Moreover, it was usually Nolan or her aunt who often welcomed their visitors if they had any. She may not know much about the family except for their being related, but one thing she has definitely noticed is that Aodhán is in no way friendly to the others. Amicable would be a far stretch. The only thing keeping him from throwing her out, she reckons, is etiquette. One would say that etiquette is unnecessary within the family, which is why he deems it fit to behave himself in her presence.

The only thing that meets her expectations is the blank stare that comes her way. Aodhán just looks at the flowers, steps away from the door, and turns his back on her until someone else from the family decides on a way to deal with their unwelcome guest, that someone being her aunt. Aoife sees that her aunt, who is surprised to find her estranged niece with a bunch of pretty flowers, smothers her expressions well.

"Is there anything you need from me?" Alma asks with a deep frown. "I thought I have made it very clear that I want nothing to do with him." Unlike Aodhán, her aunt has no intention of hiding her displeasure, Aoife realises.

"He does not know that I am here. I brought these for you," Aoife says, holding out the dewy blossoms that she had brought along with her. A peace offering. Her aunt says nothing as she accepts them. Their sweet fragrance fills the air- a relief from the stifling gloom. A small smile stretches across Alma's face as she revisits a memory and then, as quickly as it had come, it vanishes.

"Is that so?" she asks at length.

"It is as I have told you. He does not know, and I don't intend to tell him just as yet."

She takes a deep breath. This was it. She would tell her aunt. She would bring their two families back together. Either that, or her words will push them further apart forevermore.

"I want you to be a part of our family once more, Alma. My mother wouldn't have wanted this. I don't want this."

She watches as her aunt stiffens. She watches as the woman before her turns cold and bitter. She knows that she walks on thin ice now. She has crossed a line.

"You speak as though she mattered. As though you struggled to keep her as I did. As though you did not just give up on her and let her die, all because you believed in a myth!"

Aoife flinches. She now knows a part of the reason that these families have parted ways. There is not a day that has gone by when she hasn't seen the regret in her father's eyes. It is there every time he looks at her, for in Aoife, he sees her mother.

"I did not know what was happening then. You blame me as though I have done you great wrong, yet I do not see what more I could have done!"

"You have become your father's daughter. I see him in you. I have lost my sister to his foolishness. I will not lose myself too," Alma says, her voice and tone leaving no room for argument. "If that is all..." She trails of looking suggestively towards the door.

Aoife knows there isn't much more that she can do, but she will not give up. She will come back tomorrow. She will see their family unite if it was the last thing she did. She thanks her aunt for her time, and walks out the door, back home.

She has hardly walked a few steps when someone calls out to her. It is a voice that she knows, but cannot place.

"Wait! Let me come with you!"