Chapter 4

I am late.

I am painfully late.

I set the alarm for 10 am. According to my calculations, I would have reached the house at noon, more or less.

But then, I had to switch off the alarm and go back to sleep, thinking I would wake up in 5 minutes.

So, it was no surprise that when I finally opened my eyes it was already 1:15 pm.

I woke up with a jolt and hurriedly got fresh and ready to face the wrath of my mother.

Chewing an oatmeal cookie for my breakfast, I walked towards the bus stand.

No wonder that there was not even a single bus in sight. So I started to walk/run towards the house.

Thankfully it was not far away, just about 25-30 minutes walking would cover the whole trip. But my empty stomach and dry throat were making it hard to do anything.

At about 2 pm, I reached the house.

It was a simple 2-story structure, with a front porch and an empty lawn. A car was parked in front of the garage, which meant that my mother was going somewhere.

I rang the doorbell and stood back, knowing that my mother would get annoyed if she could not see my face.

After a while, the door opened revealing a petite woman who looked almost like me. We had the same facial features, even complexion, except for the eye color. My eyes are amethyst whereas hers was dark gray. Even our hair color was the same raven black, but currently, she had dyed it to be slightly brownish, probably to hide the grays.

"You are late," she stated disapprovingly. "You forgot didn't you?"

"Uh...no. I had some improvements to do ...at the...bathroom...basin," I lied.

The look she gave me confirmed that she was not convinced at all.

"Well, I am going out right now to do some real work", she said and waved her hand, signaling me to move aside. "Go to your room. There are a couple of boxes. It should be enough. I have a class. I will come back in 3 hours."

I nodded, went inside, and closed the door, as my mother went off to the university.

I glanced around the room looking for any sign of change but there were none. It was like the room was stuck in time and any change would mess with the future.

My growling stomach made me walk towards the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I took a whole bottle of cold water and downed the contents in one go. Then I grabbed a banana from the counter, peeled it naked, and went to my room while eating it.

My room was in the same state as I left it. The only difference was the boxes that were placed on the foot of the bed.

I looked around to see what I would pack only to realize that only one box was more than enough. Most of the things I had were already shifted to the new apartment. There were only some books and a blanket that I needed.

Never had I realized that folding a blanket was a problem until I had to fold one. No matter what I tried the wretched thing would not fit in the box. It would not even remain folded.

After trying several times, my eyes landed on the cello tape on top of the nightstand, and a brilliant, possibly damaging idea hit me.

Again, I folded the blanket, but this time the corners were taped tightly.

Several folding and taping later, I won over the blanket and placed it in one of the boxes. Then proceeded to pack the books. They were all related to my studies since I had already shifted all the storybooks. The heavy taxation and accounting books pressed the blanket even further into the box, making room for even more things.

I looked around to see if I had missed anything. That is when I saw the only photo frame in the entire room on the nightstand.

It was a picture of me and my dad.

Looking at the picture, I was unable to breathe. A heavy lump grew at the back of my throat as I forbid myself from crying.

I walked over by the nightstand and picked up the photo intending to pack it with all the other things. But I collapsed on the floor.

I still remember the day the picture was taken.

Still, remember what an amazing dad he was.

I also remember how he died and how I could have saved him.

"Keep it down."

Hearing the voice, I looked up to see my mother standing by the door.

"I said keep it down," she repeated in a croaking voice.

Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears and I knew she was remembering the same night too.

Finally, after taking some deep breaths, I found the courage to talk to her.

"But mom, this is the only picture I have left of him.", I said hoping that she would let me keep it.

"And you don't deserve it", she said clenching her teeth. "You don't deserve anything that belonged to him. Or any of his memories. So keep it down."

Well, I have his eyes. What am I supposed to do? Gouge my eyes out?

Reluctantly, I placed it on the bed and took a long look at it, knowing that this was the last time I would ever be able to see it.

I sealed the box with the tape, picked it up, and followed my mother down the stairs. She walked over to the main door and opened it, indicating me to leave.

I had no other option but to oblige.

I was out of the house but then I turned around because I had to say something to her. Even if she did not believe it. But I meant every word of it.

"Mom...I...I am sorry."

She looked taken back for a moment. Like this was something she had never expected, no matter how many times I had repeated it in the past 19 years. Then her expression changed from shock to anger.

She said, "Don't apologize for something you could have stopped."

And with that, she banged the door shut.

After standing by the closed door for a while, I made my way towards the apartment, with the box and all the painful memories I had taken from the house.

Not at all a great way to end a week and start a new one.