「 𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨 」

Day Before Tomorrow

The day lightened as the sun stretched its beams through the dusty window, illuminating the figurines that lined Ayana's shelf-tiny unicorns, superheroes, and dolls with porcelain smiles that seemed to mock her sorrow.

She often clutched one of them, seeking solace in their unwavering presence, but today was different. Today, she felt as if they, too, could feel the weight of her heartache.

Ayana stared blankly at the calendar on her bedroom wall, each day leading up to the present meticulously crossed out with a bold, black marker.

The bright red circle marking her birthday felt more like a glaring reminder of impending doom than a symbol of joyous celebration.

Tomorrow, she will turn six years old, a milestone that typically comes with balloons, laughter, and the sweet aroma of a birthday cake. Instead, her young heart ached with the fresh, stinging memories of her mother's hasty departure.

She could still vividly picture that day, imprinted in her mind like a series of haunting photographs.

Her mother hurriedly packed her things in an old, worn-out suitcase, its corners frayed from years of use. Clothes were thrown in with little care, a pair of shoes that didn't match peeking out from one side, and a favourite book carelessly shoved in last.

The scene replayed in slow motion in Ayana's mind-the quiet determination in her mother's eyes, the tight-lipped expression that hinted at a mixture of pain and resolve.

Tears hovered, unshed, in her mother's eyes, as if balanced on the precipice of a cliff, never quite making the leap. Perhaps it was pride, or a desire to stay strong for her daughter, that kept them at bay.

Ayana herself had felt numb, unable to process the gravity of the moment fully. It was as if someone had taken a heavy, invisible brush and painted the world in dull, lifeless grey.

Then came the sound that echoed in the hollow chambers of her heart-the dull thud of the door closing behind her mother.

It wasn't a slam, not angry or accusatory, but rather a hollow, final note, like the closing movement of a sombre symphony. It lingered in the air, growing quieter and quieter, until silence enveloped the room.

In the shadow of that concrete and heartrending reality, Ayana's once buoyant spirit began to wither away. The joy and innocence of childhood felt like distant memories, obscured by the heavy fog of confusion and loss.

Where she used to run and play without a care in the world, Ayana now found herself sitting quietly, her once sparkling eyes glazed over with a sorrow far too profound for her tender age.

-

Her father was always there, a gentle giant who tried his best to lift her spirits with games, laughter, and pancakes, but deep down, Ayana knew that no amount of syrup could sweeten the bitterness of her reality.

He would sweep her up in his big arms, spinning her until the world blurred around them, but she always landed back to the same spot-the floor of a house filled with echoes of what was lost.

She picked up her favourite unicorn, its shimmer dulled by neglect, and held it tightly against her chest.

"What do you think, Sparkle? Should I celebrate tomorrow?" She imagined the unicorn's cheerful neighbour in reply, but its silence only deepened her sorrow.

Sparkle, her unicorn, had been a gift from her mother. It was Ayana's constant companion as she navigated the choppy seas of grief and growing up.

She ran her fingers through the unicorn's tangled mane, remembering how her mother would play along, imitating Sparkle's jovial voice, filling the house with laughter.

-

Out of the corner of her eye, Ayana noticed a dusty, old box under her bed. She crawled over and pulled it out, her heart racing with anticipation.

Inside, she found a collection of birthday cards, drawings, and little notes-tokens of her mother's endless love.

One particular card caught her eye. It had a unicorn on the front, nearly identical to Sparkle, and inside, in her mother's familiar handwriting, it read: "To my dearest Ayana, may your days be filled with wonder and your heart filled with joy. Love, Mom."

Tears welled up in Ayana's eyes as she read and reread those words. The sentiment seemed so distant from her current reality, yet she could almost hear her mother's voice as though she was whispering in her ear.

A gentle knock on her bedroom door pulled Ayanna from her reverie. "Princess, can I come in?" It was her father, his voice laden with concern.

"Sure, Dad," she replied, attempting to keep her voice steady.

The door creaked open and her father stepped inside, his face etched with worry. He noticed the letter in her hand and the tear stains on her cheeks. Sitting down beside her on the bed, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"It's from Mom, isn't it?" he asked gently.

Ayana nodded, her voice catching in her throat. "I just... I miss her so much, Dad. Her words-it feels like she's still here, but at the same time, it's like she's so far away."

James approached her, kneeling to her height. "I know it's hard, princess. But we still have each other, okay? And I promise it will get better."

She looked into his eyes, eyes that had aged far too quickly over the past year. "I just miss her, Daddy. Why did she have to go?"

James sighed deeply, hugging her tightly. "Sometimes, grown-ups make decisions that are hard to understand, even for them. But that doesn't mean she didn't love you. Always remember that."

Ayana looked up at her father, searching his eyes for comfort. "Do you think it gets any easier?"

He thought for a moment, then replied,
"I think the pain never really goes away. But with time, it shifts. It becomes part of who we are, part of our strength. And we learn to carry it a little differently each day."

For a few moments, they sat in silence, both drawing strength from each other's presence. Finally, Ayana spoke again, her voice steadier. "Dad, can you tell me one of your favourite memories of Mom?"

A tender smile formed on his lips.
"I'd love to. How about the time we took that unexpected road trip and ended up at the beach by sunset? Your mom had this incredible way of turning the simplest moments into magical memories..."

As he shared the story, Ayana felt a warmth spread through her heart. It was as if, for a fleeting moment, her mother was right there with them, her spirit woven into their shared laughter and love.