Gifted

A tear dropped from the corner of my eye and made its way down to the bottom of my cheek. I felt a hand on my shoulder, squeezing softly… as if for comfort. It was my Aunt Isabella. I looked up as I heard the vicar step onto the platform near the microphone. He cleared his throat, ready to begin the ceremony.

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the life of a loving mother, sister and friend. Rachel Willows, mother to Holly and sister to Isabella, has passed. We shall take this moment, to say our final goodbyes, as we lay Rachel to rest.”

Hymns were being sung all around me, I couldn’t bring myself to join in. How could I sing and celebrate life when my mother was taken from us so cruelly. She was just 42 years old, she had so many years ahead of her. I sat, imagining that she was still alive, before I knew it the singing was over, and they were shutting the curtain around my mother’s coffin, ready for her to be cremated. I sobbed, and said my last goodbyes, I picked up the locket my mother had given me just before she died and held it in my hand, kissing it gently. This was the only part of my mother I had left. “Bye mom, love you” I whispered, I knew she could hear me, somehow.

Soon, the ceremony was over and I walked out of the church with Isabella. I couldn’t bear attending the wake, where people who barely spoke to my mother would walk over to me and act like they truly cared. They would ask how I am and say they were sorry for my loss, but it wouldn’t help me. All I wanted to do was to go home, I don’t mean to my new home with Aunt Isabella, but to my old home, moms house. I would love to lay in bed with her and watch old movies like Breakfast at Tiffany’s, but now, that would never happen. This saddened me, I rubbed the locket that was laying against my chest.

Aunt Isabella and I got into her car and drove back to her house; it still didn’t feel right calling it ‘our’ house. Isabella unlocked the front door, we both made our way into the kitchen; I sat at the island on a stool as Isabella went to make us some hot chocolate. I’d always loved the way she made it, with whipped cream, marshmallows and her secret ingredient. It always made me just that little bit happier, she knew that now it was needed more than ever.

When I woke up the next morning, I rolled over to my Aunt lying next to me. We had fallen asleep reminiscing about old times. When we would play scrabble with my mother until midnight and stay up until all hours watching our favourite chick flicks. We would be comfy and snuggled up in my mother’s bed. We really were all so close, the three of us together. Talking about this stuff made me feel as if she were still here.

Today, Izzy and I were planning on looking through some boxes of my mother’s things, so I could decide what I wanted to keep and what would go to charity. It was Sunday now; I would be starting school tomorrow. It was the beginning of a new year, and no one from my school had known my mother had passed, apart from my best friend, Lola.

I wondered how my first day back at school would go and I wondered if Lola had been able to keep the recent news to herself, or whether she had told others. Soon, everyone would know, and I knew that they would. I just wanted to avoid for as long as I could, being pestered by people who didn’t care about me when my mother was alive asking how I am, I’d just reply with “I’m fine, thank you.” And leave it at that, even though it would be a lie.

Soon Izzy and I were in clean pyjamas, looking through my mom’s boxes. Every so often we would find a picture, one that made my heart warm at the sight of it; I made a pile for pictures and kept them all together, as keepsakes. Soon we were onto the larger of the boxes, mostly filled with books. I lifted book after book from one old looking and very dusty box, after a few minutes, I soon came to a very large old book, with a letter written to me attached to the front. I raised my eyebrow, a letter attached to a book? I lifted the book from the box, damn it was heavy. I set it back down on the floor next to me, and pulled the letter from the front. I soon noticed that the letter was written in my mother’s handwriting.

My heart pounded in my chest as I opened the letter.

“To my darling Holly,

I am writing you this letter because I want you to know I have left you one very special gift now that I’m gone… Powers!

This book will help you to achieve your full potential, as it did for me. Cherish this book, Holly. Look after it with your life. Aunt Isabella will guide you.

I love you my gorgeous Holly,

Good luck,

Mom xxx “

I stared at the paper, puzzled as to what mom had meant by powers. Aunt Isabella soon noticed I had the letter in my hands.

“I was wondering when you would find it!” She stated, smiling gently, she placed her hand lovingly on my arm.