If Only

Chapter Two: The Encounter

I tried to call out to my mom and Glenda, but my voice failed me. They were nowhere to be seen, and I felt like I was all alone in the world.

That was when I saw the shelf, looming tall and solid against the chaos of the store. I stumbled towards it, desperate to find something to hold onto before I fell.

But instead of finding solid ground, I found myself crashing into someone else. I felt their chest against my face and heard the clatter of metal cans as they hit the ground.

"Oops," the person I bumped into said, to which I learned was a boy.

I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment as I tried to apologize, but my words were cut off by my mother's voice calling out to me. She pulled me away, and I stumbled after her, feeling like I had made a fool of myself in front of everyone.

As we left the store, I couldn't help but steal a glance back at the boy who had helped me. He was cleaning up the mess I had made, his expression kind and understanding.

But all I could think about was how clumsy and helpless I felt.

*****

Standing in front of my grandparents' house, I hesitated. It had been so long since I set foot in this place, and now, I wasn't sure if I wanted to continue walking. As the gate opened, the house loomed before me, designed to look like a narrow lot house despite the large land it stood upon. The white paint that used to adorn the walls had now turned yellowish due to a lack of maintenance.

Taking a step inside, the smell of freshly mowed lawn filled my nostrils. The foot trail led me to the entrance of the house proper, which was only a few yards away from the gate. Unlike our house, there was no need to walk a great distance from the gate to the doorstep.

Hesitation consumed me, and I couldn't shake off the feeling of disturbing the peace of the house I used to love. The thought recurred from the back of my mind, causing me to stop in my tracks.

"Sweetie, are you okay?" my mother's meek voice chimed in from behind me, causing me to jump slightly. I recomposed myself before answering, "I-I'm fine, mom..."

Encouraging me, she nodded her head towards the entrance of the house where Glenda stood, handing all our stuff to Chandler. A little older than me, Chandler was probably 18 or 19, but I couldn't remember. He gathered all our stuff from Glenda, his hair slightly outgrowing on his face, framing his strong complexion. Chandler was slightly pale, considering the slightly harsh climate, but he sent me a warm smile before disappearing through the door.

He was the housekeeper my dad hired a few months ago to maintain the house, the person who had stayed behind while I took a hiatus and all cooped up in my own little world.

As I stood frozen in the doorway, the weight of the emptiness in the house settled in my bones like a leaden cloak. The familiar warmth and joy that used to fill the air were now absent, replaced by a hollow chill that echoed through the empty halls. It was as though the very essence of the house had been drained away, leaving only a shell of what it once was.

My eyes roamed over the shelves and the trinkets and treasures they held. They were the same as I remembered, yet somehow different. The memories of my childhood flooded my mind, memories of running around the house, exploring every nook and cranny, asking my grandparents questions about every object that caught my eye. But now, everything was covered in dust, untouched and unloved.

The realization hit me like a sledgehammer. I had been avoiding this place for too long, too afraid to confront the reality of what had happened. The house was in shambles, left to decay without anyone to tend to it. The guilt and shame of my neglect made my hands clench into fists, and I felt the urge to flee, to run away from the pain and the memories.