Aftermath | ✓

Still

Kamari grabs the edge of the sink, staring into the mirror, making eye contact with herself.

With olive green eyes.

Eyes that belonged to her son.

A small cry escapes her lips as her hold on the sink tightens, entire body shaking.

The house was quiet.

The house was so quiet. So unnaturally quiet.

It was suffocating her, the silence. Whenever she walks anywhere now her steps would echo and break the silence.

Or maybe they always had. Maybe the third step from the top had always squeaked. Maybe the kitchen drawer had always been that noisy. Maybe her bedroom door had always creaked.

Maybe she never noticed before but now that there was a void, Kamari could hear everything all too well.

If she could change one thing, it would be her son dying. She would make him wake up, make him open his eyes and his mouth, make him ask where he was with a broken voice and sure he's unhappy but he's alive and that's what matters.

Kamari slowly drops to the ground, hands holding the sink above her head as she rests her forehead against the cold porcelain.

Her breath gets caught in her throat as Kieran bounds through the front door, excited because he had received a purple ribbon for his photo.

She squeezes her eyes shut as Kieran lets out a loud, celebratory shout as he rides up and down the street without any help for the first time.

Her hands slip from the porcelain as Kieran takes his first step and says his first word, a smile adorning his face and bubbly noises erupting from his mouth.

She spins her wedding ring around as she holds Kieran for the first time, his eyes fluttering open and an indecipherable noise leaves his lips.

Kamari presses the palms of her hands against her eyes, begging herself not to cry. Not to shed another tear even though her oldest son, the brightest light in her life, is gone.