Three months ago; Aaron
The cold from the wooden stairs sunk into my legs, but I couldn't feel it. The numbness from two hours ago rang throughout my entire body. Everytime I closed my eyes, I heard the gunshots. Everytime a step seemed out of place, I saw the blood.
No one wants to bury their own mother, especially without seeing the man who killed her pay.
My hands covered my face as I sat on the stairs. I may have been away from the pity party, but that didn't stop me from feeling weak.
Arms circled around me from the back, and my shoulders relaxed. If it had been anyone else, I would have flinched or coiled away, but it wasn't. She spoke in a soft whisper, her voice soothing to my ear.
"Don't mind me. I'll leave if you want me to."
"No. Stay." I replied. She let go and found her way to my side and sat down. I lifted my face to look at her. Her long brown hair dangled and her beautiful grey eyes were now etched with worry.
"Only you Isla." I said. She lifted an eyebrow.
"Only I what?"
"Only you can calm me down like you do."
"I take it the therapist session from yesterday wasn't great." She said, still talking in a calm whisper.
"Any therapist session the day before your mother's funeral isn't going to be good." I reply with a scoff. She inches closer. Her black dress blending with my black slacks.
"What did he say?"
"PTSD. He wants me to take a break from school so that it doesn't develop into an anxiety disorder."
"And?"
"And I refused. Let me bury my mother today along with the pain."
"Thats not how it works, Aaron."
"I know." I sigh as she leans her head on my shoulder. "I just can't get what happened that day out of my head. If I hadn't insisted we stop and buy some flowers for the house, then we wouldn't have been there for the robbery. Then I wouldn't have tried to stop him which wouldn't have resorted in my mom getting in the way of a bullet meant for me." I vented. A tear rolling down my cheek. How I wanted my mom to wipe it off like she had done so many times before.
Voices started to reach my ears, they were gonna find us and tell me how sorry they were for my loss. I grabbed Isla's hand and dragged her with me to find another hiding spot. We went upstairs and into the first room. It wasn't until I realized what room we were in, that I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
The piano room. It was a poor room, but mom and I always took care of it. The one thing in it that was beyond any treasure sat in the center, a grand piano.
I walked over and sat on the seat, Isla following suit. Tons of memories flooded my mind. From when I was a chubby toddler and sat on her lap as she played gorgeous music, to when I turned sixteen and was able to play with her.
I lazily played a chord. Isla played another. I responded with yet another. The chord became a melody that we played together, our fingers flying gracefully across the keys. We were in perfect harmony. At the end, we both chuckled at the spontaneous moment. Isla suddenly stopped and studied my face. I felt the heat rise in my ears, she smiled in victory.
"What?" I finally asked.
"I was just looking at the handsome face of my boyfriend." She answered. I released a cheeky smile which made her snort in laughter. I loved her laughter. Then I frowned.
BINABASA MO ANG
Forgive Me
Fantasy"Was it worth it?" She asked, pain in her voice. I gave her my most honest answer. "If I could do it over again, I would've never left your side that day." She buries her face in her coat. We were far beyond fixing, maybe I should accept that, even...
