Survivors Of The Lost

13

I remember the day my parents passed away. Im good with dates especially the ones associated with loss. I do remember the chair papa used to sit on firmly placed on the same spot it was 5 years ago. I do remember the spot where all the newspapers my mom hid from papa.

I remember the spot under stairs I used to eat chocolates without mom and papa knowing. I remember the spot I used to hide right behind the door to scare the shit out of mom.

I smiled through tears. I remembered everything so clearly. It seemed it was only yesterday that this everything happened. I was standing in the middle of the living room of my house.

It was the day mom and papa had passed away. It was early in the morning. I could hear the birds whispering around me. I could hear it in the silent house. I didnt need to go outside.

I left home before anyone else was awake. I wanted the whole day to myself. I wanted to cherish it alone with myself. I wanted to cry alone. I wanted to laugh alone. I wanted to be myself today. I wanted to vent out all my sadness and anger. Ma knew it that today I would not listen to anyone. They knew I wanted this day to be for myself.

But this time there was something missing. There was a missing piece in the puzzle which needed to solved. I went up to my parents room. Papa owned a small cozy apartment with 3 rooms and 4 bathrooms.  Nothing has changed ever since except for the never-ending dust. The room still had the feeling of mom and papa. Its been ages since I cleaned it. And I never want to clean it. I want it to remain the same as it was years before.

I opened the wardrobe to find very few clothes remaining. Others they gave it to charity. I remember very clearly how I had fought with everyone to not to give away everything that belonged mom and papa. They fought back. In the end I had to oppress my wishes. Only because I was younger.

I opened the drawer to find a jewellery box. I opened the box. The chain it had in was fully corroded. It was only a chain. I remember that I was the one who lost the pendant. But mom never scolded me for that even though it was expensive. My vision blurred. Today I didnt want to stop the tears. Because I knew no one was here to judge. No one knows where do I go on this day. So there is no chance anyone would pop up here.

One by one tears streamed down my face. Each tear held a memory. I closed the wardrobe. I opened the study table's drawer. It creaked while opening. There was nothing inside except for a pen I had gifted papa on his last birthday. That was stil here. Every healed wound seemed so fresh now. Every buried memories surfaced.

I went to the bedside table. The lamp still stood gracefully which mom had bought. But It had stopped working. I remember how mom and papa fought over it. I opened bedside table's drawer. There was a diary. Which I had read almost hundreds of times. Reading it again everytime still aimed a arrow on my heart, making it bleed.

I couldnt take it. It was too much. Every year I could handle myself. But this time it felt like I needed someone. I needed someone to console me. I needed someone to make it all alright. I needed someone to make me happy again. I opened the diary. The diary was stained with countless tears fallen on it. I couldnt read but I just looked at the letters. It was mom who had written it. I caressed the pages carefully.

I kept the diary back on its place and left the room. Right next to their room was mine. I opened my room to find it on its worse condition. I remember throwing things all around right after I got to know that my parents were buried under 7 feet. I hadn't cleaned after. I kept it like that. Its been 5 years and nobody dared to open the room amd clean and neither did I.

I couldnt even go in. I closed the room. I sat there on the stairs leaning my head on the staircase railing. I knew my dress would get dirty stains later but I could care less.