Bloom

74. nightly deliveries

Zephaniah

Staring at the rather gloomy sky, my eyelids almost fell closed, the exhaustion that had taken over me the past few days still not gone. The gloominess of the sky calmed me in a way. It wasn't too bright, the clouds were slowly traveling to other places, dissolving along the way.

I had stared at it for hours. Still being in my sleepwear, I glanced at the clock, reading that it was seven pm already. It wasn't like I cared- I had no routine anymore ever since Cooper had died. Dad didn't want me to walk on my own, he was afraid I would get another panic attack.

Mum thought that if I needed to walk the route Cooper and I always walked, she would let me, it could be a way to process the grief.

I just felt numb. Whereas my mind had been extremely full with everything lately, it was now blank. I had no thoughts, no feelings. Just numbness. I knew deep down I was hurting a lot and sooner or later, it would get out nonetheless.

The question wasn't if, but when.

Tiredly blinking my eyes, they fell onto the moving box with loads of dog stuff I used to use as a kid. Sadness crept up, I slowly made my way over to it- my interest calming me. Sitting down on the floor, my teeth chattered when my bare legs hit the coldness.

I adjusted the neck of my sweater over my lips, blowing to keep myself warm. Hesitantly peeking inside the box, I took some dog school supplies out, laying them out onto the floor. I noticed my bubbly handwriting from when I was little, many mistakes in almost every word.

The dog pen still worked, the eraser was as new- I didn't want to use it when I was little. I would've been bummed if the eraser would break or be ruined- as if that wasn't the whole point of it.

More things followed. A fuzzy, dog themed blanket, dog slippers my parents had bought me in order to try and get me something warm to wear on my cold feet in winter. I had only played with them, they had never touched my toes. I took out Labby- the Labrador uncle Samuel had bought me for my eight birthday. The batteries had ran out, he couldn't make the salto and the barking noises anymore.

The dog breed book came after, my eyes glistened with tears at the many memories. I blew some dust off and opened it, my eyes falling onto my Dad's handwriting on the first page.

For my intelligent, creative, caring and soft-heartened little boy. Happy eighth birthday, sweet Zephaniah. Many hugs, kisses and love from daddy.

I swallowed away some tears and flipped through some of the pages, the book falling open from where a dog bookmark was placed- the Golden Retriever page. Cooper flashed through my mind, tears started rolling down my cheeks in my mind, but in reality my eyes had dried up.

Quickly closing the book, I shoved it away with my feet, my eyes then landing on a stuffed Dachshund. It took me back to the days where I had had a seizure and had hit my head so roughly that I had needed stitches. Mummy Hannah, who had been my caregiver at that time had bought this dog for me when my stitches came out. Her idea to place the long, stuffed animal against the headboard of my bed so I couldn't damage my head anymore.

I pressed it against my nose, smelling the memories.

Rummaging through the box, I finally found what I had been looking for. It was my German Shepherd stuffie; Shephy.

Carefully taking it out, I intensely stared at it, remembering every small damaging of its hairs, the one leg where the stuffing came out at this tiny, open spot. The eyes that stood warm and soft, even when they weren't real. The stuffie that had given me so much comfort when I didn't know Cooper yet.

Why couldn't I be nine, where Dad and Mum had just gotten married and I hadn't been happier, with Cooper and Shephy by my side.

It was just a stuffed dog now, it couldn't comfort me. I threw it back into the box, squeezing my eyes closed and flapping my hands at the sudden emotions I couldn't express well. When I felt slightly better, I threw everything back into the box, not wanting to be reminded by Cooper, but everything did.