There He Was

↠ three

You snuck out of the room with your yellow blanket, creeping down the stairs trying not to be caught. You struggle to get the pan out of the top cabinet but nonetheless, you independently made it by climbing the counter.

There was a large clinking sound from the pots and you froze in your spot. You clenched your hands on the pot. You looked around to see if anyone heard, lucky no one came, you smiled happily to yourself and made it down slowly and safely. You filled the pot up with water and cooked the noodles just like your mom made them.

You came near the sink with the pot handle in between your kitchen mittens. You struggled to turn the heavy pot that contained hot content. You came this far by yourself, this shouldn't be hard; you thought to yourself but little did you know you were only six years old. Your tiny little self overturned the pot a bit too much because of the weight.

Your reflexes kicked in and dropped the pot into the sink creating a loud clinking sound that echoed through the quiet house. You were almost there but disappointingly failed. You winced at the pain as your small chubby fingers gently surrounded the burn on the side of your stomach. Your mother rushed in with fear and worry written on her face. She quickly grabbed the first aid box from the top cabinet and you soon later found yourself being caressed within her arms.

"Don't worry y/n, my baby, please stop crying. I promise the pain won't last long. You'll heal."

Your mother assured you, attempting to stabilize the frail child before her. The feeling of being held in your mother's arms was something that felt so foreign to you. It's something that's been buried in the back of your mind. But remembering it, remembering her, brought so many feelings, along with waves of emotions.

Boxes filled with your belongings surrounded you as you kneeled on your knees with watery eyes. Many emotions began to overflow you. Pain, sorrow, despair; but most important, anger. You were angry because the one-time life has agreed on giving you something worth living for, someone takes it away from you. You lost your mother in a car crash when you were 7.

You tightly held onto the flowers in your hand as you tried to remember the very few memories you have with her. From the time when she hugged you warmly and lovingly after you came home from school, crying because you were constantly bullied. To the time when you attempted to make noodles and accidentally spilled the boiled water on the skin of your stomach, burning yourself. She gently put ointment and a bandage over the burn, while kissing it, reassuring you that you won't feel pain for long.

Those few words are constantly replaying in your mind.

"Don't worry y/n, my baby please stop crying. I promise the pain won't last long. You'll heal."

"Omma." You paused, your voice shaky and cracked, as a tear fell over her gravestone. "I still feel pain. Come back and kiss it, Omma." Clutching your scarred hand towards your chest. "When will I ever heal?"

You began to wonder how things would've been different had you just lost your life along with hers. She left you alone with your father who's always drunk, causing you to grow up on your own. You weren't allowed to play out, or make friends as a normal child desired. You almost forgot how to speak, since you had nobody to talk to. Constantly left alone, locked in your room with nothing but your imagination to bring you entertainment.

"You have me." The soft voice said.

You turned behind you, and gazed at him, standing in a cemetery.

Looking into his eyes was evocative of your past. All the places he took you to cheer you up. He was the only friend you could sneak from your abusive father. The only person you had left that you loved. A stranger who walked into your life when you were in a time of desperate need to feel loved once more, who later became someone you cherished more than you cherished life itself.

And the thought of losing him tore you apart.