It's late around 3 a.m.
The same house that once felt aware of her presence now feels dark, cold… still. My eyes are swollen, my lashes wet from crying. Some tears have dried on my cheeks. The last two nights have been like this.
I always knew I was alone. But now it feels painfully obvious.
I never thought life would take this turn. Elly has been texting me nonstop for the past two days. We met at Mom's funeral.
Luca texted me too, asking how I'm doing.
I'm not okay.
I turn and hug my pillow, which is still damp from my tears. There were so many things I never did with Mom. She always wanted me to call her "Mom," but I refused. I haven't called her that since the day Dad died.
Pathetic. These thoughts makes me grief deeper makes me laugh too in ways people will probably say, I am nuts…
How did I never see the signs? I always knew she was depressed. Why didn't she think about me? About leaving me alone like this?
Dad used to curse my birth month and now her dead really proved that..
Am I really a curse… like Dad used to say?
Tears fall onto the pillow I cling to.
I just wanted her to admit everything. To hug me. To tell me the truth.
That would've been enough.
Enough for us.
..................
"Zoey, are you even going to say a word? And I told you days ago throw this oversized hoodie away. Take the hood off."
Elly is really trying to make me laugh, to make me speak, to make me react to something. But the numbness I feel is the same as the days before I met her.
"Will you please say something, Zoey… please?" she pleads.
"Elly." I look at her. "I'll be okay. Stop pushing yourself this much for me."
I grab my bag and stand up. My eyes are still red when I look at her again.
"You'll get cursed too… like Mom."
"no don't say that" she holds my sleeve stoping me but the look on my face made her leave me.
I walks out of the library, leaving her standing there.
...............…..
I walk into Mom's room. Dad's picture frame is still on the bedside table.
I pick it up. "What a torture," I sigh.
How come Mom didn't even like you, yet she kept your picture right beside her bed?
I place the frame back down carefully.
This room haunts me now.
I sit at the edge of the bed. I still remember how the cops asked me questions… how, at her funeral, people showed fake pity — especially Uncle Jackson. The last man I ever wanted to see in my life.
I can't stop thinking about it.
The drugs Mom took weren't the ones she used to take. Did she buy them when I wasn't home? She had been acting okay these past few days. I almost thought she had quit those stupid pills.
I look toward her bedroom window. Then I stand and walk closer.
From here, I can see the backyard more clearly.
The white flowers are now arranged in a group of twelve.
It really does symbolize sacrifice…
I walk back to the bedside table and place the frame inside the drawer.
"So this is how things end for you too, Dad…"
I close the drawer quietly and walk out of the room.
"I hope you're feeling better now, dear," Mr. Lee says with a soft smile.
"Yeah, I'm okay now. Thank you for letting me take time off."
He pats my shoulder gently. "Oh, no problem. You needed time."
He walks away, and I notice Luca standing a little far from me, watching quietly. I look down, guilt settling in my chest. I feel bad for not texting him back.
"Zoey."
His voice stops me. I turn toward him, and before I can say anything, he pulls me into a hug.
My heart skips at the sudden closeness. He smells like coffee and his heartbeat steady…
"I'm glad you're okay," he says softly, looking at me when he pulls back.
I nod hesitantly . I don't know why, but that hug felt like something I didn't know I needed.
"I'm sorry I didn't text you back."
He shakes his head quickly. "No, no, it's okay. I knew you needed space."
A small smile forms on my lips. I nod again.
"If you need anything, you can tell me. You know that, right?"
"Yeah," I say quietly.
"And… sorry about what Clara did. I made sure she won't pull something like that again because of me."
I look at him. "It's totally okay, Luca. Don't trouble yourself for—"
"No need, partner." He winks playfully. "Let's get going."
He gestures toward the counter…
...….z...….