1 Chapter One

November, 2032

When I become aware of the fact that good memories are triggering the aching to begin; and I am wishing this certain happiness and success didn't present itself in my life- the power of the world makes me feel vulnerable. 

I can hear applause, all audiences are standing up, cheering my name and promptly, echoes of my name filled the hall room.

As I'm going towards the stage, I can hear some words from my past, the words that actually changed my life, giving me the courage to become the person I am today.

"You don't need to have anybody to make your dreams come true. Trust me or not, you will become an incredible author who will be cherished by everyone! One day, people all around the world will thrive to read your works. And I wish for a latte with a light layer of cream on top while celebrating your first booker prize!"  

Walking all the way up to the stage, passing all the stairs that were my dream stairs, I felt an undeniable urge to run away from everything.

As the presenter hands me the shining crest, which, once upon a time, was a dream that kept a smile on my lips whenever it crossed my mind Now I hardly want it.

Alas, it is high time I needed to fake a smile. I'm on a stage receiving a substantial booker prize; I can't be sad right now. Let me store all of my tears and sadness for later.

I warmly smile at the person handing me the crest and the host.

"This is my very first Booker and I have run out of words to explain how grand it all feels to go through."

I laugh awkwardly and peek at the audience.

"I guess, I can write interesting books, with interesting words. However, I'm pretty clumsy while talking!"

A peal of laughter fills the room.

I stop for a moment.

"All I want to do today, is to tell the world that I'm thankful to one of my friends; the greatest friend I've ever had. I wish to tell him that, I love him. Despite knowing that he wouldn't be listening to me, I am gonna say that, without you, nothing would be possible. You came to my life like rain, blissful yet temporary. You washed away all the clouds of dust, all of my sorrows, and then, you stopped. The sun rose, your water disappeared. But the seeds that you watered kept growing. That's why I'm here right now, receiving my first Booker Prize. My dearest pal, the seeds will always be grateful for you, and the soil that the seeds are planted on, will forever love you."

I say.

I notice my eyes getting blurry and my ears getting blocked up; it feels like the cheers, the applauses are just passing them. The host is saying something I fail to pay attention to.

That one countenance is only popping up in front of my eyes which is creating an unbelievably strong desire to see him again.

I nod my head looking at host, barely able to say anything. I can see her smiling but for some reason, it doesn't look genuine at all.

I have passed the period of getting upset about the fake happiness of others long, long ago.

So, I smile back.

Coming off the stage, I discern my cousin, Grace and her small adorable family running towards me.

"Oh my my! I can't believe my baby sis just won a booker! Holy cats! Thank you Goodness for giving this child such a beautiful brain!"

Says Grace, in one breath.

"Who are you calling a child?"

Grace's husband Ethan, my childish cousin-in-law interrupts.

"Can't you see she just won a booker? She has grown up like nobody else!"

From looking at Grace and pretending to yell at her, he puts his eyes on mine and says,

"Oh! And congratulations Kathy dear! You can't even imagine how proud I am!"

Grace joins him.

"Yup! We're so proud of you! It feels so good to see my little sis achieving her first booker prize!"

"And you can't imagine how great it feels when this little family of yours talks to me like that."

I say in my mind.

"Aren't you too, Fiona?"

Grace peeks at her daughter, Fiona.

"Aren't you proud of your sweet aunt?"

7 years old Fiona looks at me, gives a blissful smile and mumbles,

"More than you guys are! I love you, Kithie!"

She hugs me. I hold her tightly and say,

"Love you more!"

I glimpse at the two of them,

"Thank you, guys! For all the support and wishes! I'm really grateful!"

They keep silent and smile at me.

                                                     ***

I throw my handbag onto the couch and stretch my arms.

"Was a long day!"

I whisper.

"And a pretty weird one too...combination of happiness and sadness."

This time, I throw myself onto the couch, leaving the bag beneath my thighs.

"I can't still believe I won a Booker prize!!"

Covering my face with both of my hands, I keep whispering.

"You wanted a latte with a light layer of cream...now tell me, how on Earth am I supposed to give you that?!"

As I move my hands away from my face, I laugh.

"You wanted the most typical thing anyone could ever ask for as a celebration or treat! Yet, here I am! Unable to give you that simple latte in return for what you have done to me! How extraordinary!"

I sit back up, with the smile disappeared from my face.

"And I blame YOU for it. You freaking left! So where's my fault?! If you were here at this moment- I-"

I stop, trying to prevent the salty water called teardrops, from falling from my eyes.

"I swear, I would hug you so tight that your soul would escape from your body! I would make you 10 mugs of lattes by myself! If you were here, I wouldn't have to do what I'm doing right now! Talking to myself, with no one around and pretending that you exist and that you're here-"

I tap on the part of the couch beside me.

"Right here sitting beside me!"

I laugh again.

"Pathetic, isn't it?"

I stay silent for some time because tears were falling from my eyes. I won't say that I'm crying because I am not crying. Why? Because I know that this is not what's called crying. And how do I know it? Because I have cried in my life. And this is approximately 20 percent sad compared to that.

I wipe my cheeks.

"Guess what? I take back what I just said."

Standing up, I start walking to the kitchen.

"I wouldn't do any of that if you were here. Why's that? Cause even if you appear supernaturally in my life, you would leave again, one way or another. And all I would have with me are the memories of me and you. So, even if you were here, I would keep myself away from you, the thing I desire the most...because I don't want to be-"

I take a very deep breath and exhale slowly.

"Be destroyed...I don't want to spend nights wondering how the hell this can be fair. I don't want my heart to be hitting my chest for pain that the reality has caused, that YOU, my greatest pal, have caused. I don't want to cry."

I walk straight to the coffee-maker and switch my mind on the process of making the best latte in the world (or the best latte I can make).

When the machine is doing its own business, I close my eyes.

And his face, with his usual heart-melting, beautiful smile, pops up which is more than enough to make my heart twitch; once again tears fall.

I wipe them away again and open my eyes, take the container, pour milk and hold it beneath the froth enhancer thingy.

"I'm gonna drink your latte! Stop me if you can!"

As I pour the brother milk over the coffee, trying the hardest to create a heart shape, I smile.

"Life is incredibly weird..."

I take the mug of latte in my hands and walk to the living room again. I slowly sit onto the couch where I sat earlier and take the first sip of the latte.

With a short pause, I sip again. And then I stop.

Salty water starts falling from my eyes again. But no, this time they were not just water, they were liquid symbols representing grief.

I nod, by myself.

"This is what I would call crying; when everything inside of you seems to be shattering and your blood seems to be heating up- for one thing. Sorrow."

I hold the mug tightly and all the sadness that I have been holding for hours and hours and hours, come out finally. I remember the day he left, I cried like this; not just only the day he left, but also almost every single day after that.

He left in a weird way.

I can't seem to be controlling anything now, my body rolls down onto the floor from the couch, crying out loud like a little child.

"Why you?!"

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