My Little Moon - 𝗂𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗈𝗌

50. epilogue

Grave.

Her grave was lovely.

It was perfect.

A woman in black stood over the marbled plaque. Her fingers were adorned with obsidian-colored roses. She didn't mind the thorns that impaled her skin, she was far too numb to feel anything other than. . .nothing.

Her eyes searched the tomb with missing enthusiasm. A small, golden dove laid by the side of the stone plate. Remembering what it meant, started to prick her eyes. Black roses adorned the sides, along with the chocolates her other nephews left. Kit-Kat chocolates.

One gentle tear escaped, before fountains poured.

It seems as though that is what all she did.

All she did was weep.

Her index traced the letters that were engraved. She stopped when her gaze met with the date. And only then, everything came back to her.

Irene kneeled in front of her daughter's grave. Lips quivering while muttering her name. She didn't care if her clothes got dirtied, she didn't care how loud she cried, she didn't care how much tears she poured. . .

She didn't care.

Because the thing she cared about the most, was already gone. Lost forever.

"Ang sakit. . .ang sobrang sakit. . ."

She tried to wipe her face clean. The black roses sitting idly on top of the tomb.

"Pero alam mo kung anong mas masakit?" Her smile never reached her eyes. It wasn't happiness that clipped her face. Not anymore.

"You left me twice."

Irene bit her lip. Catrina wouldn't want to see her crying. Even a thought as simple as that, made her heart yearn. The ache only grew bigger, leaving a hole no one can fill. A place in her heart no one else can ever have.

"Hindi man lang kita na tawag na anak. Hindi man lang kita na yakap bilang anak ko. Nandoon ka na sa harap ko oh. . .bakit kapa nawala?"

"I told you I was finally here. . .tapos ikaw naman ang hindi."

The wind brushing through her hair was not the answer she wanted. Irene wanted a voice. Her daughter's voice. Eight days of not hearing it had never been this painful. Eight days of losing what was once lost. . .was eight days of living in hell.

"You left me too soon, Catrina." Irene just wanted an answer. Something. Anything. "I wasn't even done loving you yet."

Memories of her very own child never reached the count of a thousand. It never even reached to a handful. But Irene was grateful she had memories. Even if those memories were of Catrina and not Amaris.

"I should've hugged you tighter the last time I saw you. I should've kissed your cheeks a lot sweeter than the ones I gave before. If I had only known it was your end, I would've given the world to see you open your eyes and look at me as your mama for the very first time."

Grieving was something Irene never wanted to experience. Not again. But that's the funny thing about death, everybody she knows would eventually vanish. Be one with the soil. She's prepared, but it still hurts.

The question still lingers. Why now? Why so early? Why her? Out of all the people in the world, out of all the souls that could have been picked, why her. This place is filled with such evil but none had been taken. . .none had been chosen to perish.

Irene was beginning to think that nothing beautiful ever stays for eternity. Beautiful things always gets picked. And for once, she wished they didn't.

"I will look for you in every place, in every person, and in every purpose. Even if it means that I will never see you again."

The mother stood, dusting a portion of her garments, before casting one last glance to where the grave was. And for a moment, the world had never felt so big.

"The part of my life where I had you will forever be my favorite."

Her fingers gently grazed her necklace.

And then, she left.

. . .

That night was filled with the wails of a mother.

All the world's heartaches were stashed in a jar and she somehow consumed it all.

Looking up, she saw it.

Irene saw the last thing that reminded her of her.

The moon never looked so alive.

She faced the sky, but she never saw the moon. She saw her daughter.

"It's been a long day without you."

Midnight had always been silent. But not tonight. Irene heard the midnight laugh. Soft, heavenly. . .impossible. But it wasn't.

Her necklace glistened against the pale glow of the very thing she avoided the past few weeks. She couldn't bare looking up and getting reminded that her daughter was also up there.

It still hurts.

But despite it all, she smiled.

A smile that never reached her eyes, but reached the heavens instead.

Life went on, but it won't be the same ever again. People won't last but memories would. . .remembering them would be the art of life and what's in it to survive.

Irene had come to a conclusion that she'll always live a life of 'almost'. For once. Just for once. She wanted to live a life that is finished.

And with one last look. One last moment.

Her heart spoke.

"I love you, my little moon."