The memories

He opened the door and entered his room. Placing his luggage at a corner, he surveyed the entire room and memories of when he stayed in the room came crawling. Every memory that surfaced had Jane's picture in it. It was like the room was Jane's but he had a share in it.

Every single thing in the room from the furnitures to the beddings to the curtains, the television, the door mat and the painting of the room had Jane's touch because they were all chosen by her. She was the one that organized and monitored the decoration of his room.

As his eyes roamed everything, he recalled the memories that were attached to them. Not even one had Jane's absence.

As they returned to his luggage which was by the wardrobe, they got locked on an object which made him smile endlessly, the wardrobe. It reminded him of Jane's witful power. Her ability to cleverly take what she wanted.

He remembered the time their parents asked him and Jane to choose the wardrobes they wanted from a magazine. Jane chose a silver colored wardrobe whose handle had diamond on the tip while he chose a black colored wardrobe with a well polished and crafted handle.

The day it arrived their home, Jane's eyes were completely glued to his own while her hands were playing with her diamond tip. To cut long story short, her wardrobe now sits in his room.

He shook his head and walked up to the bathroom to see a painting, Jane had him put on the wall, facing the toilet. Her remembered it's context but forgot it's content. So he strode to the bathroom see it.

' You miss her, don't you? '. The voice made him flinch. He never expected that anyone would enter him especially when he said he wanted to rest.

With a compelled mind and a forced smile, he grudgingly turned back only to see his mother sitting on his bed and looking at him.

' She is not easy to forget mother '. He replied as he moved his bed.

' You urgently wanted to see her masterpiece, right? '. She asked him as he sat on the bed.

' She will forever remain the best artist '. He replied with a slight smile in his face.

One could tell from the way he answered her and smile on his face that he really cherished that painting and would love to see it but because of his respect for his mother, he decided to answer her first and find out her reason for being there before taking his time to adore the painting.

' God knows best. He knows why he decided to take her from us '. Mrs Jason said as she looked at the bathroom door.

Clifford who had been looking at the bathroom door, turned abruptly to his mother and then a frown eched on his face.

' How can you say that? Mother, you know it wasn't Jane's time. It was orchestrated by men. Heartless men that deserve not to live '. Mrs Jason turned to him as she heard what he said. She looked at him intently to be sure she heard him correctly.

' Clifford say what you just said again '. She commanded him as she drew closer at him.

' Jane never deserved the death she received '. He answered and turned away.

' So what you are saying is that because she did not deserve the death she got, you would give her murderers the death they deserve '.

He drove his eyes back to her and buried them in hers. He left them there till she shook her head.

' And you think that's the best form of punishment? '. To her question, he bent his head and started playing with his fingers. When Mrs Jason saw that he was not replying her question, she spoke further.

' My son, inasmuch as your father and I want to avenge your sister's death, we want to bring the murderers to justice, to the law to face prosecution. We don't want to take the law into our hands. We don't want to become murderers too '. She spoke as she placed her right hand on his shoulder.

' Jane never deserved death but she does not deserve to be called the late daughter of the doctors that saved people's lives but took the life of the people that killed her. She doesn't deserve to be called the sister of that villain '. She kept talking as she saw that he was completely paying attention to her as he stopped playing with his fingers.

' I will need my privacy '. He spoke up after some seconds. Raising his head to convey his message to his mother, he saw that her eyes were completely bigger than their sockets and her mouth was slightly opened.

' Excuse me '. Her speech cannot just be wasted like that. Let it not be that he was not really paying attention but waiting for her to finish talking.

' I would like to have my privacy mother '. He said boldly.

' So I was just talking to myself, Clifford?. So you are ready to drop justice and take the law in your hands?. So you are ready to stench your name and be shut behind bars? So you..... '.

' Mother, I would like to use the toilet now '. He shouted, cutting Mrs Jason in her speech.

Her eyes embiggened for the nth time as his words were absorbed.

' Why didn't you tell me you want to use the toilet? I would have stopped talking '.

' It's not too late mother. You can stop now '.

' That's rude, Clifford '.

' Mommy, please can you excuse me like can you please stop talking, I mean stop enhancing, I mean stop increasing your words. I understand now '. He tried to polite but couldn't.

She nodded and got up from her sitting position. As she held the handle, she remembered something and turned to Clifford.

But the latter was no more there as only the sound of the door closing were heard.

She shook her head, opened the door and left the room.

In the toilet, he rose his head and saw the painting on the wall.

****

Much love readers. Keep challenging yourselves. Still wish you the best.

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