LINGERING SHADOWS 2
(The basement box)
Shadow_vee
Orabella's POV
Business was slow, and i found myself wiping down counters more for habit than necessity. The smell of roasted coffee beans filled the quiet shop, mixing with the faint hum of the espresso machine. A regular, Mr. Thompson, wandered in, made his order and when I served him he came back muttering about needing more sugar in his cappuccino,that was more sugar than any normal human would add. I smiled, adding sugar to his cup to his exact specifications,and when he was done he left with a nod and a grateful grin,he had been coming here even before I started working here,a loyal customer with specific requests.
Claire rolled her eyes. "You treat him like a king."
"He's harmless," I replied, hiding my amusement. "Besides, it's easier than dealing with the grumpy ones."
Hmmmp the grumpy ones always complaining never satisfied you could serve them while kneeling on the flow and they would still have complaints sometimes they push you till you would want to take off your apron and just go home.
We paused near the counter, talking about nothing and everything the slow day, past high school antics, her dreams to travel, and my silly aspirations in writing and fashion. A warm ordinary day,i thought.
The shift ended, and Claire had already left for her date at the movies, a free spirit who couldn't be tethered. I sighed as I walked home, a sigh that had become almost habitual since my father passed.
The kitchen was quiet i glanced at the spot where he would have been, tending to the boiling pot on the stove. For a moment, it was as if he might appear, humming softly while chopping veggies teasing me about my writing instead of cooking even tho he knew i was a good cook he always boasted that i couldn't match his cooking skills.I missed him, dad always had a way to cheer me up even on the days i wanted to give up.
I made something light for dinner and poured a glass of milk and when I was done eating I went out to feed the few animals we still had on the farm they watched me curiously. I had almost sold all of them there wasn't enough time to tend to all of them properly. It was sad, but I had to.
When I was done i went back inside showered and sat down on the couch, staring at the ceiling, feeling the familiar ache of emptiness. Then, a sudden impulse pushed me to do something different something I hadn't done in years. I went to the basement the dim, dusty space smelled of old wood and memories. Boxes I hadn't touched since before my father's death lined the walls curiosity pulled me forward, stronger than hesitation.
My eyes caught one box in the corner. I remembered it from when I was thirteen i had wanted to open it then, but my father had caught me he made me drop it back he had acted off, a little uncharacteristically stern, and told me not to touch it. As an obedient child, I had never disobeyed. Somehow, I had always felt it was connected to my mother and I didn't want to make him sad.
I carried the box to the living room. "I'm sorry, Dad," I murmured, almost afraid he might hear me from wherever he was i lifted the lid inside lay a high school yearbook, worn at the edges.My mother had attended the same school as dad and I soon came across her photo. They had been lovers, and I had been an unplanned, but loved, baby. Why she had left without thinking about us still remained a mystery dad didn't like talking about the incident he only said she found a better person.
"Why do they always leave I thought to my self silently".I brought myself back from my many scattered thought,today was not going to be one of those days I sulk and blame my bad luck.
I continued going through the contents of the box careful then laying at the bottom of the box was a journal it stood out from every other thing with soft cracked with age.
I took it out,it was dad's diary,I opened it his diary from 10 years ago,I skimmed through the pages until I got to the last one that grapped my attention from the others...
Today i went hiking in the mountains. Half way through I found a man gripping a boy dragging him towards the cliff I couldn't stand there and watch I picked up a branch and approached him. I managed to save him just in time the man ran off. The boy, maybe fifteen, told me through tears that his father had been ambushed. We searched and found him, almost bleeding to death. Somehow, I found the strength to carry him down safely and was able to take both of them to the hospital.
I paused, my breath catching. The house seemed quieter somehow, the familiar hum of the fridge distant.