Those Eyes

2. The One Who Flew A Kiss

Now that I am given Peace as a family, I am expected to be happy. Happy to be finally who I am. To finally let go of The Mask which concealed my weak self within. Free to finally stay calm and positive. But instead, a tear rolls out of my eye and down my cheek. My parents.

My head is swirling in a whirlpool of memories. My heart is throbbing painfully against my chest. One moment I see my mother braiding my ash brown hair and the next moment, I'm soaring through the sky with a parachute and my father by my side. A bold face with a terrified heart.

Huh, sounds familiar to me.

Then I see my father teaching me how to write and suddenly after, my mother is standing in the doorway helping me choose a dress for The Ceremony. All these memories started to fade away to be replaced by a thick dark layer of blackness. Emptiness. I felt a stronger urge to sit down on the stage because that's where I was standing at the moment. It was all a quick but distinct blur of memories which had made up my life until now. That's when it hit me. This was my life until now. It's going to change. Change forever.

When I jerked back to my senses, I realized that my hands were trembling. The paper with my new Family name written on it was crumpling under my clutch. I had opened my eyes to be greeted by the perfect white marble of the stage on which I stood. A few more tears had trickled down my cheeks, exposing my vulnerability to the crowd. But did I care? No. Not now when I had to think about my parents. Not now when I had to sort out my own feelings. I could never think of the crowd.

Whenever someone was given a Family to accept, they either cried or smiled. Grief of leaving their Blood families, or happiness of being with them. Everybody was always so engrossed in themselves, that they usually forgot the people who brought them up. Not a thankyou, not a final gesture of affection for showering you with love even at your most difficult times. This had been something which I had never understood. The people who encouraged you at your worst and celebrated at your best, do they not deserve final words? But these thoughts never seemed to surface the minds of anybody.

At that moment, it hit me even harder than the first time. My life is going to change. Change forever. The Peace and The Fire weren't friends. They hated each other. They only worked with each other when it was absolutely necessary. Absolutely. Till now, there never was such a situation. I was being separated for my parents. Forever.

That's when I knew what to do. A final gesture of love, affection and respect.

I slowly looked up and walked to the front of the stage. I dropped my crumpled paper into the White Peace labelled box, right beside the Black Fire one. How simple do they make it all look here. The boxes placed beside each other, symbolizing friendship.

What a joke.

I lifted both my lace covered arms gracefully and brought my hands up to my mouth. I touched my finger tips to my lips and held out both my arms towards my parents. A single teardrop zigzagging down my cheek as the brim of my eyes filled up with more.

My parents' faces were shining with pride but eyes swollen with tears. Tears of joy and pain alike. I spread my arms in opposite directions pointing towards everyone in the stadium. Utterly shocked and stunned faces met mine, and the corners of my lips turned up into a slight grin. It felt for a moment, that I mattered. I had done something today on the stage which nobody ever had. I had made a difference. My parents' gleeful smile gave me immense sense of confidence, satisfaction and pride in myself. I lowered my hands gently as I realized that my final time was over. My final gesture towards my parents was done. Completed. But then....No. I could do one last thing.