The rain hadn't stopped since morning. It fell softly against the car windows, blurring the world into gray streaks as we pulled into the drive way.
I haven't said a word since we left the church. I just wanted the day to be over so I could come home and retire to my room. The house was still crowded when we got back. Voice still floating through the air like smoke that wouldn't clear. Everyone looked so heartbroken but their eyes were dry, their arms to quick to hug, their words rehearsed .
Mom always said " people love the performance of sympathy more than the work of kindness"
I stood by the corner leading to the sitting room and watched them all like a bad play, (all costume, no soul.)
They said "she will be missed "as if my mother were a holiday they forgot to mark on their calendar. Half of them haven't called in months, years, half of them I have never met before . I never knew mom knew so much people.
Fake mourners, very real performers. I rolled my eyes and quietly walked past the sitting room to climb the stairs to my room.
Finally my room, I laid down and covered myself with my blanket and stared quietly at the ceiling . I waited for the noise and buzzing downstairs to disappear along with everyone down there.
An hour or two or more passed, I couldn't keep track of time but then I heard a soft knock on my door.
My brother gently opened the door and peeped
"Aria , are you sleeping ?" He asked while he stepped into the room.
"Haven't seen much of you today, you should eat something before going to bed."
" not sure I feel like eating anything today"
"Has everyone left?" I asked , while make space for him on my bed
He sat and placed my head on his chest, "yeah, but aunt Fiona is cleaning up the place. "
My brother Tee just came back from college few days back, we weren't the closest of siblings but I guess grief can soften some bonds. In a time like this, we were all we had .
"You should really eat something," he said while patting my head. My mom always does that for me especially when I was at my lowest.
"I miss mom" my voice cracked, fighting back all those tears I kept locked in.
"I know you do, but I am sure she is at peace and happy wherever she is" he held my hands tight.
I am sure he was battling with his own emotions too.
"I am going to go get you some food downstairs, please make sure to eat them" he stood up and stared at me .
I nodded but my gaze stayed on the door as if expecting my mom to walk in anytime with her brightest smile.
Food was the last thing , I could think about. Everything felt so heavy, my dress , my chest, my eyes.My brother disappeared into the hallway down to the kitchen. I stood up, unsure whether to follow him or sit back on my bed.
But Instead I stood up and went out the hallway into my mom's room.
Inside her room,Everywhere still smelled like her, her soft perfume,her home made candles that had burned half way down. The flower on her window now beginning to wilt, the unmade bed, the half-finished book. Everything was still in place. I don't have the heart to change anything. If I could leave it all like that till whenever, I could but I know so I will have to clear and sort stuffs out.
"Aria!" I heard my brother's voice from the hallway, taking one last glance round the room before closing the door. I saw it!.
On the shelf, just beside the picture frame of her and Theo which was taken on his high school graduation. A small wooden box with delicate carvings on the lid,I had seen it before ,once years ago . Mom usually keep things in it. Letters, tiny keepsakes, ticket stubs. I reached for it. My finger brushed through the lid. I wanted to open it but I heard my brother call me again. So I took it and walked out gently closing the door behind me. I mentally reminded myself that I would check it out later when alone in my room and everywhere seems quiet.
I walked into my room and saw a plate of food on my bed stand. Finally slipping off the black dress,placing the box close to my laptop. I locked my door and walked into the bathroom and soaked myself in a warm bath and drifted off.
It felt like hours when I finally I dragged myself off the bath tub. I sat on my bed and ate a few spoons from the food, drank water and covered up tte rest.
Then I laid down on my bed and wandered through the events of the day.
I waited for sleep to come but got nothing other than silence and the soft music coming from my brother's room .
I tossed and tossed and when I couldn't take it. I stood up from my bed and started walking round my room. Then my eyes spotted the brown box I took from my mom's room.
Contemplating on whether to open it or not, the wooden box waited in the moonlight , daring me to open it.
Heart thudding, fingers covered in sweats, I lifted the lid, the carving pressing lightly into my palm. The silence now even more deafening . The lid creaked open .
Inside were pressed flowers, a gold chain, a faded photograph of her and Dad, their wedding rings, and one envelope , Lilac by the edges , sealed but fragile .
There was no name on it. Only two words, written in my mother's familiar looping handwriting.
TO Orabelle.
I frowned, who was orabelle? A friend? A secret ? A part of my mother's life I d' never know?
My thumb brushed the ink.i wanted to open it but something stoped me . The feeling that this letter wasn't for me, at least not yet.
I dropped it back into the box and kept it inside my closet. I picked up my Diary from the night stand , the one i haven't touched in months. I uncapped my pen and stared at the blank page . For a moment , not knowing where to begin. Then my hand started to move .
To Orabelle,
Dear Orabelle,
I don't know who you are.
But Mom wrote your name like it mattered.
Everyone says grief fades, but I think it just learns how to hide.
It hides behind fake smiles and casseroles no one really wants.
It hides in the way people avoid saying her name, like it burns their tongue.
I miss her voice. I miss the way she hummed while folding laundry,
or how she said my full name only when she was proud of me.
The world feels quieter now.
Maybe writing to you will make it a little louder again.
Love,
Aria
I closed my journal , exhaling for the first time in hours. The moonlight caught on the edge of the wooden box , and something about it felt alive like it was waiting.
I didn't know who orabelle was but I knew she was going to change a lot.
I laid down on my bed and this time I closed my eyes and sleep peacefully came to me.