Tethered

Settling In

So now you know what I am, a stranded soul that's summoned whenever and wherever.

It's an unsettling feeling, to be jolted out of a deep sleep and find yourself in a new location. I don't think I can ever get used to it. It's just too jarring; do you remember the feeling of waking up suddenly as if you fell onto your bed? That's the feeling I get every single time.

My mum's thoughts still cause great pain. She hasn't moved on just yet. No surprises there; I was her only child. 

Everyone else have learnt to slowly move on. Their emotions at times still made me bleed but over time, they healed me too.

It sounds exhausting but it isn't. As their thoughts disappear, so do I. I return to my deep slumber until the next awakening.

Remember when I said that time heal all wounds? Well, the downside of that is that people started to think of me less, they were moving on with their lives (as they should I suppose). I began realising that I've been away for great periods of time. The obvious clue was my colleague celebrating her baby's first birthday. I mean, before that, I had watched her announce her pregnancy! Kids grow up so fast, don't they? That's my dry humour there.

Anyway, I realised that when they'd all forget about me, I'll cease to exist. I really didn't want to disappear. Every time I am summoned, I'd scream or plead with all my might for them to pay attention to me.

Some of you may think, I deserved this (after all, I killed myself) or if I let go, I'd get out of Purgatory. Maybe when people stopped thinking about me, I'd go to Heaven or worse, Hell? Surely, Purgatory is a better place than Hell so you can understand why I didn't want to run the risk of disappearing just yet!

It's not all doom and gloom. I love being summoned by my mum. She always think of me as she leaves a bowl of phở for me on our family altar. Oh how I miss her cooking.

Like any other day, I'd stand by her and listen to her talk. My mum would tell me how much she misses me and afterwards, burn a few paper clothes and money for me.

My mum would run her fingertips against a photo of me before she stepped back to continue the rest of her day; not realising her daughter's existence faded along with her thoughts.