The Wish From Heaven | ✓

chapter 26 : she threw dawn away

I think about the phone call from my own father. With his reasoning, I was starting to forgive him and was ready to talk with Mom about it. But that one line, spoken so thoughtlessly, snapped a wire in me. But the rage is now replaced by a familiar dull ache. I find myself almost envying that little girl.

The woman sitting beside me gets a phone call, the ringtone playing a song of Isakov that I recognize with a smile. Dawn loved his music. She probably notices it, so she doesn't pick the call immediately, and lightly sways her body to the soft melody of Dandelion Wine. The song plays for a few more seconds before she picks the call, talking in a low voice. The bus arrives. Two people-a chubby woman wearing a bright yellow dress, and an old man walking with the support of a cane-get off, and the woman with the sunglasses stands up.

"You aren't getting in, kid?" She asks, taking her sunglasses off to reveal a pair of sea blue eyes.

I shake my head. "My turn hasn't come yet."

She nods understandingly, and gets in the bus. The door closes, and it leaves. Buses come and go, just like people.

My temporary partner having left, I stand and head home. I don't visit Dawn. Even if I do, I won't be able to focus on him. Only one person occupies my mind right now, filling every nook and corner of it.

Passing the Ambers' house, I reach the Lockwoods residence.

Mom walks out of the bedroom, where one side of the bed must have grown colder by now, just like mine. I look at the ground as she comes and stands in front of me.

"How was it?" she asks, crossing her arms.

"It was fine. I, uh, got a-all the multiple choices right." I can't tell her I got one wrong.

"What about the written section?"

"All the questions were common to me. I answered them fine."

She opens her mouth to say something, hesitates, closes it, then says, "What subject is it tomorrow?"

"Maths."

"Hmm. Go to your room and start practicing, then. Lunch will be ready in an hour."

I pass her and head to the stairs. "So, did the walk outside last night help a lot?" she asks suddenly.

I turn back. I try to read her expression to understand the purpose behind that question; whether it was out of mockery, or just an inquiry. I fail to, as the only thing I can make out in her face is the sheer fatigue and lack of sleep. The beauty that made her look younger has said goodbye, and age has finally decided to become visible on her face.

"Yes, it did," I reply.

"You didn't feel distracted at all?"

"I could concentrate very well."

"That's good." She nods. "Well, you won't have to go out again, hopefully. I made sure to take care of all the things that distract you."

Saying that, she heads to the kitchen. I stand there for a while, confused by what she meant.

Then it hits me.

I whirl around and run to my room. Swinging the door open, I rush to my bed. I look under my pillow.

No Norwegian Wood.

My hearts starts to pace faster. I crawl on the bed and look under the other pillow. Empty. Then I take both the pillows and throw them on the floor, but the space under them shows no sign of the reddish brown cover. My head becomes clouded, making it hard to think properly.