M For Moscow

42 | Leya

"I'll be right outside." Vlad whispered, nodding down at the hand gripped onto his arm.

I released my grip and watched him slip out of the morgue, leaving me with the ghosts of the room. I gulped.

Why did I think it was a good idea coming down here?

There were four bodies resting on steel beds in front of me and on the right were more steel drawers with big metal handles. The bed where Lena lay, the one closest to me, had its sheet pulled over to reveal her face. Drawn from its colour, cold to the touch, but still so bright and beautiful.

Looking at her under the glowing white light, I remembered why I had asked to see her one last time: to say a proper goodbye to my best friend, my sister.

"Hi, Lena." I whispered, staring at her lifeless body.

She looked peaceful. Her eyes were closed, the hair was brushed away from her face and there was a faint smile on her lips. Like she knew something I didn't.

I bit my lip back when the tears threatened to fall. It wobbled and trembled while my hand shook to caress her face. Like I expected, her body was freezing which was just a big fat reminder that she was really gone.

"Le-na, I'm sorry for missing your text. I-I should've been there, I should've picked you up at the airport!" I cried, placing one hand over my wailing mouth and another on my heaving chest, "I'm really sorry. I failed you. Lena, I failed you. And now you're gone and it's all my fault..."

My knees hit the ice-cold floor and a shot of throbbing pain shot up my spine but I was too heartbroken to notice. The cries blocked all hearing, the tears blurred sight and what could only be known as the worst feeling in the world put a stop in everything else.

I shook uncontrollably on the floor. When I caught sight of her fragile hand under the sheet, I abruptly scrambled backwards until my back hit the walls and my head gently bounced off the railing. Stacks of medical supplies were on my either side, ranging from big, pointy needles to tangled-up machinery I assumed was for the heart. I wondered if I'd plug it in now and place the two pads over her lifeless body, would it bring back my best friend?

Even in my mournful state, I knew life after death was not a possibility no matter how much I prayed for it.

My right hand reached for the railing, the cold metal shocked me momentarily before my own body heated it up. Slowly, I pulled myself off the ground until I was standing back on my own two feet. My other hand was still over my chest, heartbeat-to-palm. It hammered rhythmically against it, like the sound of twenty-beating drums. I did what my therapist said: rub my temples and count to five, sort my feelings into two separate boxes, and breath in with my nose and out with my mouth.

A sense of calmness blew over me after. My breathing slowed and my heart started beating within a safe range. And when I opened my eyes again, the panicky feeling was gone and in its place was loss.

Lena's smile was still on her face, maybe even wider than before. It looked as if she had just seen my whole panic attack and that she was either proud I got over it myself or happy because she got to watch it. Either way, I had the sudden urge to start laughing with her. A much-needed, tear-springing laugh escaped my mouth but not of sorrow because I knew she died in peace. Her best friend was going to care of her baby.

"I could really use a Lena-moment right now." I said, wiping away the happy tears, "How do you take care of a baby?"

***

It was painful leaving Lena but when the lights were switched off and the sheet was pulled back over, it felt like she had left me instead.

The same nurse from earlier brought me up to the paediatrics floor next. It was a striking difference from the emptiness of the morgue. Pink walls, numbered stickers on every door and little baby cribs in each room: it was like we took an elevator from Hell to Heaven.

Nurse Vlad stopped at the number twelve in front of yet another pink door. Through the glass was a single incubator with a baby inside of it. She was small, much smaller than my brothers were when my mother gave birth and I held them for the first time. Her skin was also thin, much thinner than my brothers were, like a piece of clear plastic wrapped around her fragile body. She looked vulnerable. With so many devices attached to her tummy and a big one in her mouth, she was a premature baby that needed help.

"Is that her?" I asked.

"Yeah, that's her." he replied, beaming.

"She's beautiful." I didn't mean for my voice to crack. Babies never got me too sentimental but seeing my best friend's baby must've had some effect on me. A tear dribbled from my cheek and landed on the exposed toe of my heels.

"Normally we wouldn't advise to name a baby so soon just in case of any further complications but now that you're her next of kin, what would you—"

"Leya." I interrupted, "Her name is Leya."

Vlad smiled once more before turning to the window. "That's a perfect name."

"Can I visit her everyday? I'll come after work and stand outside the window if I have to."

A wave of relief washed over me when he nodded and a tsunami came when he said I could come as often as I'd like.

When there was an end to a life, there was a beginning to another.

***