Dust ✔️

Chapter Three -- Reminiscence

Chapter Three — Reminiscence

I looked up at her smiling face staring ahead of us as we walked down the pathway on a warm spring day. She had no eyelashes. She had no color in her cheeks and her lips were starting to blend into the same color as the rest of her pale, pale white face.

She'd been dead for close to twenty years, but somehow here we were, walking together. Her facial features were the same as I remembered - ill. Her eyes however were also the same as I remembered - They always held a twinkle of joy.

I grabbed her hand in mine which made her smile towards me once more, showing her perfect teeth that were slowly dulling out. As we continued walking down the path, hand in hand, I noticed we were walking slower than usual and it wasn't because I was oddly too short to keep up. It was something else.

I ignored the fact that the trees were forming leaves again and that the weather was actually warm and there was sun peeking out of the clouds instead of the usual gloomy, grey days with rain falling. I stared at her smiling face. And despite the fact that her cheeks were sunken in, showing her prominent cheekbones, despite her chocolate brown hair turning dry, despite the dark purple bags under her light blue eyes, she was smiling. It never mattered how she looked, she's always been beautiful.

When I turned to look back at her, we were no longer outside like we once were only seconds ago. Instead, I was inside a house that I vaguely remembered, sitting at the breakfast table, eating oatmeal with dinosaur eggs that hatched when heated up.

I glanced over to the yelling and saw her small framed body waving her hands around at him. She wasn't the only one gesturing, as he was also throwing his hands around in what looked to be disbelief. In my eyes, it just looked like he was trying to swat a thousand flies away. I didn't say anything. I didn't think they even remembered that I was still here, listening to them.

"Why are you handing this to me?" He exclaimed. "I don't want this. I don't want to read this." He shook his head and pushed the white papers back towards her.

"I think it'd be useful if you did... You need to think logically. These are my very last wishes after I'm gone, please." She plead. "We have a beautiful child to think about right now. It's not just you and me."

"You know how I feel, Camille. I don't want to do this without you. I can't have this responsibility... This- This kid... All on my own. I won't." He snarled at her and took a step back.

"What do you mean?" She cried. "You are all he's going to have left! We have no family. It's me and you." She hesitated stepping closer to him and stopped in her tracks.

I was very young when I overheard this conversation, but I could remember the details as if it only happened a day ago. Sometimes it felt that way.

Mom and dad, runaway lovers, living in a fairytale. He decided to drop out of high school to chase after a fling in England, where she ditched her family when they didn't support her pregnancy.

"Soon to just be me, right, Camille?" The strain in his voice was evident.

"Don't think of it that way..." She pleaded. "My family doesn't even know I'm sick. He's our son, you can't just bail on him now, you can't... You-"

"He's your boy." He growled. He took the papers out of her hand and crumpled them up on the floor before viciously storming out of the house and leaving my mother alone, devastated.

I always hated to see her cry. It made me angry to know that anyone had the capability to make her upset when she was the one person who didn't deserve any of it.

I looked down at my hand as it scooped up oatmeal and dropped it back into my bowl.

My mother walked over and sat in the empty chair beside me, petting my hair. She then wiped away the last tear on her face and smiled at me softly which made me feel warm inside.