First thing when I woke up on the day of graduation. I puked. I puked everything that I ate yesterday. Nothing could stay down. I had to get Father to aid me in the bathroom. I did not know how scary it was to be in the shoes of the graduation boy.
Predominately because ever since Kyle went missing, it kept reminding me that Kyle was missing out on an important day of his life. He never spoke to me about how it mattered to him, but thinking about it now. He probably did. Especially if I was helping him. I was terrified that he might be dead or alive somewhere out there. I keep praying that he is alive.
"Jesus, Terrance," Father whispered, rubbing my back as I kept puking my nervousness. "How much did you drink last night, Terrance?"
The pressure in my stomach twisted and turned like it was taffy. The room was tightening. My eyesight kept blacking in and out. This had to be the worst panic attack I had had in a long time-the worst feeling to feel before graduating. I could comprehend nothing properly, like my head became full of water. I thought my fingers were snakes and my suit was made of black tar. Everything seemed to go wrong today. It can't be. It had to be correct. I puked even more than my mind raced back and forth. I wish Kyle were here for me.
I glanced at my dad, full of tears. "It's not that, Dad. It's this anxiety that has been pending for s long. I am just fucking nervous." I gagged, and then a bunch of puke shot out of my body.
"Shit, son. I am sorry. I didn't know you were this worried. Anxiety sucks," Father emphasized.
I raised my head from the toilet and pushed myself away from the disgusting sight. I leaned against the wall of the bathroom. Father joined me, and he put his arm around my shoulders. I leaned into his grasp and took a deep breath.
"I am in love with Kyle," I revealed immediately. "I had always loved him. From the day I met him. Was it an obsession, or was it more?"
"Oh, I knew. Don't you think I saw your drawings of him? You have a good hand for art," He sighed. He rubbed my shoulder with a firm grip.
I slightly chuckled. "Is that why my art book was moved that one day?"
"Yep."
"Why didn't you say anything? You know there were some nudes...." I blushed and bit my lower lip.
"I know," he sighed and looked at me, smiling. He jogged me and started laughing. "Er, so you lost your virginity!"
I scoffed and pretended to be offended, "What! Obscured! Unorthodox! Absurd!"
He slightly punched me. "Don't worry, buddy. I am proud of you. Getting out there and stepping out of your comfort zone!"
"You think so?"
"Yeah, of course!"
I saw Kyle in my head. I wish I could touch his body again. His beautiful stomach, pecs, skin texture, and the way his eyes sparkled like light against the ocean. I could feel myself sinking into the deep thoughts of Kyle. His young soul seemed immortal. But yet, here we are. He's gone. The school seemed to forget about him completely. His parents had moved away. Sandy started ghosting me. Kyle was gone, just like the butterflies.
I read somewhere that butterflies only last up to two weeks or four weeks. Unfortunately, my painted lady butterfly only lasted for two weeks. I wish he could live in my life as long as the end of times. I just wanted to hold him.
"What are you thinking of?" Father asked, poking me on my shoulder.
"My butterfly," I sighed. I looked down at my feet and wiggled my toes. I smiled and glanced back at Father.
Next thing, there was a knock on the door. The door cracked, and Lina's head popped in. Her hair looked like a drape and was pushed back by a headband. She looked at us sideways and smiled at us.
"What are you guys doing in here?" She asked.
"Nothing," Father quickly said. "Just condoling your brother. He is going to become a man today!"
Lina smiled. "Well, come on! The limo is here now!"
I darted my eyes toward him. "You got a limo!"
Father chuckled. "Fuck yeah! I want to ride in style before you take the next step in life!"
He stood up and offered me a hand. I groaned and slightly bumped my head against the wall. I rolled my eyes and accepted his offer. Lina fully stepped into the bathroom and hugged both of us. Lina giggled and pulled us tighter into her firm hug. We all accepted her hug and stood there, enjoying the moment. Something about this moment felt like the world had disappeared. Mother was missing from this, but. It felt almost as good as when I kissed Kyle for the first time. But this was impeccable.
The limo blaring its horn interrupted us. It echoed throughout our house, which made us jump. Lina gasped and scurried away like a little squirrel.
"Well, I guess we have to go now. Clean up, Terrance. You still smell like puke. I will tell the limo driver to wait for you," He patted my head and shuffled my hair around. "I love you, son. I am sure your mother does, as well. We will visit her tonight."
He walked away, but I quickly told him to stop. He turned around and tilted his head. I sighed, "Thanks, Dad, for not judging. I am still figuring all of this out-my life, my love life, and everything. I still don't know what I am going to do. I still miss and am deeply in love with Kyle. The problem is... our relationship was based on both of us changing for one another. Is that a bad thing? Am I ready for love if I have to change who I am? Or am I just obsessed with the idea that the fantasy of my crush liking me back?"
Father clenched his hands and moved his hair back. He came up to me and grabbed my shoulders with his firm hands. "Son, love is one of the greatest mysteries that not even I know. If Kyle truly loves you, he will sacrifice to benefit you and him. That goes for you. But unfortunately, Kyle was taken away too young, pretty, and ignorant. He may never return, or he may. But if he doesn't, you can use this as a lesson. Always value yourself for the truth of love. And if he returns, and I hope he does, you two will never be the same. Sometimes, love doesn't always work out. But some do. Love is a river; you will never know where you'll end up."
I felt a tear slide down my face. "I fear he will never return. And I may have to restart the process again."
"Terrance, I know it's cruel. But if he does not return. Kyle would love for you to fall in love again with a different boy. You would be a fool not to."
It was the harsh words that hurt the most. I bit my lower lip. Yes, my father is cruel to his words, but it was a bitter truth that I had to hear. I can not keep holding onto Kyle if he is truly gone. My brain pulls me one way, yet my heart says to stay. But it was true. Kyle would love for me to fall in love again with another boy. With a boy who could make me laugh, who could make me cry, who would give me the inspiration to draw him, and somebody to talk to without judgment. I wish it were Kyle because he gave me all of that and some. But how my father's words captivated me made me feel like I had to slap myself with the bitter truth.
"Why does it hurt so bad?"
"Because it was real," He pulled me into a hug. I sniffled and embraced his huge, warming hug. I loved my father's hug, like hugging a warm blanket by a blazing fire pit on a winter's eve. "Did Kyle love you back?"
I nod my head.
He sighed. "What happened? Did you guys fight or something? Because I don't know why you guys stopped talking in the first place?"
"Well... Kyle was in love with me, but he decided we stay as friends because he was afraid that dating would ruin our friendship. So, I freaked out, and it was not the freak out I was expecting," I was going to talk more, but Father put his hand around his ear. It made me quiet, and I tried listening to what he was trying to hear.
"Wanna tell me about it later? Because I think--" A loud, prolonged honking came behind us. "There it is," he groaned.
I faintly laugh. "It's fine. We will talk about it when I am ready. There is a lot to talk about. Trust me."
"Okay, son. Thanks for sharing. I will meet outside," He patted my shoulders and strutted away.
I stood there, listening to my father's heavy footsteps slowly seeping away. I glanced over to the mirror and looked at myself. I remembered how I looked when I first met Kyle. I looked like a child. Now I looked like a much different person. Maybe it was the purple bags around my eyes. Or was it the fact I changed my glasses? I don't know, but I could see a different person than I was before.
The old Terrance Reed would have never approved. He would obey his mother and avoid parties; he would have sat on the sidelines, watching Kyle whisk away. But this Wallflower dude was proud of what had happened. He was not proud that his mother was half dead, his love was missing, and how tired he was. But it felt liberating to know that he differed significantly from before and could improve from here and out.
I splashed some water onto my face and looked back into the mirror. I tried to smile, but it was hard. I adjusted and firmed my back with a straight posture. I forced a smile, mostly a weak one. But I looked at myself. My hair was becoming long and untamed. My eyebrows were thick and bushy. And my acne was growing like it was a plague. I stuck my tongue out at myself. Then I fondled my hair while adjusting my view to the structure of my face. I used my index finger to slide back and forth against the sharpness of my jawline. My finger moved to my "monkey" ears, and I played with my earlobe. The smooth texture transfixed me to stare at my face.
How could Kyle ever like this mess of a face? I thought.
I gripped the edge of the vanity and leaned forward. I watched the dripping water splash onto the white sink. At some point, I think my tears became dripping water. I sniffled and erected my body. I wiped the salty dry tears from my face. I stared at myself in the mirror again. I looked like a mess. A real mess.
Again, I turned the water back on and scrubbed the living hell out of my face. I was getting rid of my dry skin, dried salty tears, and guilt. I toned my body to look confident in the mirror and fixed my unkempt hair. It was not as perfect as Kyle's, but it would suffice. It had to, or it would not be an exciting time. It was for Kyle. It had to be for Kyle.
I ran out of the bathroom and down the narrow hallway. I looked to my left and saw somebody standing at the doorway. The glass on the door distorted the face and shape. I wondered why Father wasn't coming in, so I walked up to him. I swung open the door, and it was Father. But he was looking down at his phone. Tears were running down his face. I slightly went up to him and tried to look into his face. He gazed his sorrowful eyes at me. I titled my head.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"it's your mother...." He stuffed his phone back into his pocket. Then he dropped to the floor like he was a rag doll. Unaware of how hard he hit the floor.
"What happened? What is it?" I asked.
"She... She is dying...."
I gasped. The thought of Mother's face came to my head. But. I could feel anything. No remorse or anything. Just pure silence in my head. It was like my hurting was for her, only for Kyle. It felt selfish for me to think that it was probably better for her to die anyway. She looked like she was in pain. She looked like she wanted to die.
Father looked up at me. "Son, I am sorry. But we have to go to the hospital now. Or she will die any minute."
I looked behind Father, looking at the limo with unaware Lina. She talked loudly to the driver, and he had his hand on his cheek, bored and ignorant. I stared back down at Father, who was shaking uncontrollably. I sighed, and I handed my hand to him.
"Yes, Father," I softly agreed. "Let's go now."
We were there within twenty minutes tops. We rode the limo and paid him extra for making him wait for a least half an hour. The number of stares and glares we got when we arrived at the hospital in a limo and suits. It could have been more comfortable.
We rushed through the halls of the hospital to find Mother. They changed rooms because they were closely monitoring her heart. Father looked like a scared mouse, scurrying through doctors, patients, and hospital beds. Lina and I had to walk briskly behind through the hallways, making us nearly trip over Father's dust.
At the end of the hallway, we found Mother hooked up to various machines. She looked like a cyborg, with tubes running all over the room. I was terrified at the sight of all the blue tubes and red wires. I can hear the sound of her hollow breathing. She didn't have her eyes open anymore. They looked like heavy sandbags. There was no remorse for her from me. I felt more scared of the tubes and wires trying to keep her alive.
"My little peacock?" Father whispered. He sauntered up to her bed, trying not to trip over anything.
"What--what is happening to Mommy, Daddy?" Lina whimpered. "Is she going to die?" She pressed her body against my side. She clung to my clothing. I started rubbing her head.
"Little peacock? Can you hear me?" He whispered again, this time leaning closer to her face.
She did not move or respond. Just the sound of the beeping occurred in the background. It sounded shallow, like we were all underwater. There was something about hearing the machine monitor beep that created an uneasy feeling-especially Father, who was checking all her pulses.
He wrapped the room like a fresh coat of paint, looking at everything medical. Presumably, checking if everything was in the right spot, the tubes and the wiring. But wherever he thought it was wrong, everything stayed the same. He just kept searching for an answer to why she was not responding.
I hated looking at Father like he was some crazed scientist. I wanted to stop him, but whatever he was doing, he was stuck to it. I held Lina tight in my arms, and she held tight onto my jeans. I looked down, and it mortified her. Her lost little eyes darted left from right, staring at each wire and tube and looking at our deranged father. I wanted to escort her from the room so she could no longer see this.
"Why isn't this working?" Father fumed. He was being tied up in wires and tubes. He looked like it entangled him in jungle vines.
"I thought she was doing better, Dad?" I whimpered.
"I lied, okay?" Father shouted. He pushed his hand through his hair. "She hasn't been doing any better. I didn't want you to worry since you were so depressed for the last several months."
"What is happening to her?" I asked.
"Coronary Artery Disease," He admitted. "It's when your buildup of fatty deposits. It can reduce blood flow. Unfortunately, it is known as heart failure."
I had to do something, and he was losing it. His hair frenzied like a wild boar, and his face had chapped with anger. I did not recognize him. He kept trying to move Mother, but nothing he did was good enough. I slightly moved up to him, and I screamed. "Stop it, Daddy!"
He gasped. His mouth was slightly open, only enough to see his teeth were chattering from anxiety. He was quick to let go of everything he had in his hands. He fell to the bedside and sobbed. I let go of Lina and went up to console him. He wept as I had never seen before. He made sounds like a mama wolf losing its pup from an arrival clan. He howled through the thick bedsheets. I curled my lips in, trying to stay strong and not cry.
"Why her? Why can't it be me!" Father cried. He smacked his hand against his face.
I was quick to react in time before he did it again. His power to hit himself was overpowering. I could sense he was not done harming himself. But my adrenaline had more power over him. I held his hand like a rock and resisted his mighty hand from hitting me in the cheek. But eventually, he gave up and howled again.
I looked back to see if Lina was all right. But she had disappeared.
"Dad, Lina had run off!"
He looked up at me and groaned, "Damn, child. Grab her. I will be here. Trying to stabilize her."
I nodded. I walked out the door, but I stopped. I took a glance back at Father. Who was slowly standing up from the floor? I frowned because it also reminded me how old he was getting. He was struggling to stand up, but he managed. But I noticed how his knees shook like two straws trying to balance a rock. But I continue to search for Lina.
I went up and down hallways, searching for the poor thing. It scared me primarily that she would get herself into trouble or worse. Hurt. I even tried to ask for the receptionist. But she was too busy talking to someone on the phone. I searched the waiting room, the bathrooms, and even outside. But there was no Lina in sight.
I stood outside the hospital, trying to catch my breath. I leaned forward and nailed my hands to my thighs. There was a tight cheating sensation occurring. I knew it was my anxiety arising. Fuck, not a perfect time. A dark figure shadowed my peripheral view of the cement pathway. I looked up to hope it was Lina.
But no. I gasped with shock and disbelief.
It was Kyle.
I couldn't believe my two eyes. It was him in the flesh and bone. His stance seemed standoffish like he hoped I wouldn't start yelling. I mean, I wanted to. But before I could say anything. Lina was standing behind him. Who was gripping from behind him? She poked her head like a little owl.
He gave me a "I am sorry" look. I erected my body. Now, my anxiety was racing through my bloodstream. I can not believe my eyes. It was him. All my life, I would not think he was back in front of me. But I shook my head and raised my nose high in the air. I looked down at Lina, trying to avoid his eye contact.
"Lina. Come with me," I calmly said. "Dad needs you."
Lina nodded her head and looked up at Kyle. "Thank you, Kylie. I hope to see you soon."
He nodded his head. He looked different, like a sad difference. His blonde hair was black and short, and his skin seemed paler than usual and somewhat serrated like he used sandpaper as his face wash. He wore a baggy sweater that covered most of his body. He also had a large scar gashed across his face. This was not the Kyle I once knew. Who the fuck was this man? I wondered. But I had no time for him right now.
I grabbed Lina by the hand and dragged her back inside the hospital. I could feel Kyle slowly walking behind us like a sad dog. Somewhat I liked it. He was fucking around. My boy was back, or the once I knew the boy was back. Still, once I return to my mother's room, I will take Kyle to the side and give him hellfire.
We made it back to my mother's room. Lina rushed up to Father. Who had taken off his blazer and had gloves on? Examining Mother. He looked at us and shook his head at Lina.
"Why did you do that, Lina?" He scolded.
"Because I was scared. You scared me," She whimpered.
He sighed and opened his arms up. "Come on, Lina."
She giggled and quickly accepted his hug.
Father looked up and noticed my shadow. His eyes went huge like Jupiter's. He was quick to let go of everything he had in his arms. I gave him a sideways smile. "What in the world?"
"Father, can I be excused for a moment?" I asked him. He was quick to nod his head without saying. I could hear Kyle gulping from behind.
"There's an outside sitting near here. Just go left," advised Father.
With no word, I stormed to the left of me. I swear many words were trying to pour out all at once. There was a rocky feeling in my hands. I could not stop shaking. I could break down and cry. But this was my chance. I could say sorry, or I could scream at him. What was it going to be?
We reached the outside patio. It was beautiful. Calming and peaceful. Except for the muffled sound of traffic over yonder. I stopped in front of a hole that looked like it used to have water. And I waited. I could hear his heaving breathing and his beating heart from behind. It was scared sounding. He must've been expecting me to run away, or does he expect me to slap him? I wanted to slap him so badly. But I wanted to hug and kiss him. I waited for his voice. His sweet, caramel voice.
But the sound was too loud, and I was becoming agitated. I said first, "Well, what do you want?"
He sighed. "I am sorry...."
I stared back at him. He was crying. I wanted to console him, but I could feel my pride intensify. "And is that all you have to say? For disappearing for fucking eight months?"
He stuttered. "I know... I--I--didn't know what to say or do."
"So, you weren't missing?"
He shook his head no.
I bit my lower lip, "What made you leave?"
He lowered his head and sniffled. "Because I was too afraid to return home and realize I fucked everything up with you. I knew after that fight I was going to lose you. You had that guy over, and I knew it was the end."
I forced a laugh.
"I know, but I realized it just fucked everything up anyway. I made a stupid decision. I never knew that I would be gone for eight months. I contemplated returning many times, but I could never face you."
I stood there, staring at his face. Eight months have gone by. It was like I never knew him anymore. Who was he? If he cared to come, he would've run back for me. But yet again, I also fucked up and made him run away. So who is to say what would've been in those eight months?
Kyle continued. "I ended up getting into an abusive relationship with this guy I was seeing. He never let me go. He never trusted me seeing you and my family. So that's why I went to Calgary. He ensured money, shelter, and love. But what he told me was just a mirage. He beat me up. He degraded me. He made me stop talking and using social media. He was the reason I couldn't talk or anyone. I was too scared to leave."
"I am sorry," I bluntly said, sounding discarded. I put my hands on my hip and sloughed my posture. I probably seemed like a douche. But I can feel my pride win.
I didn't know if he was seeking my empathy. But I couldn't just run up to him and hug him. I was mad. But I was upset that he was in an abusive relationship. But just the thought of that made me infuriated. He chose that fucker over me.
"Say something, Wallflower!" Kyle yelled.
That nickname. I realized like those words were knives. I swore I could feel the world had thinned and darkened. I haven't heard that word in months. I had to find the words to continue our confrontation.
"I don't know what to say," I replied.
He turned around and hugged himself. "Anything would suffice. Am I here now? Does that matter to you?"
I choked on those words for a bit. But I had found the right words-the trauma I've been honing for the last eight months. I walked up to him and forcibly turned him around. He yelped. I stared deep into his eyes.
"What the fuck, Kyle. Of course, it fucking matters. What do you want me to say? I miss you. Welcome back after going missing for eight months! You do not know the hell I went through to find you. Me and your sister, Sandy. We were fucking broken that you were gone!" I exclaimed.
"I am sorry, Wallflower," he whimpered.
"Fuck, Kyle. You disappeared from my life for eight months. I cried so much that I could've filled an ocean. I hated you, and I missed you; I resented you. Fuck I tried everything to forget you. But each night, I stayed up past four am, thinking about your safety of you. Like, where the fuck did you go! I wanted to kill myself once the police told me you were dead. But Sandy and I did not give up. We waited. Day by day. Month by month!" I paused for a moment to catch my breath.
I continued. "You are the most selfish guy I have ever met! How fucking dare you for leaving! You are the reason my life has been so shitty!"
Kyle started crying.
I stopped for a moment. "But the only problem is?"
He sniffled and wiped his eyes and snot from his face. He looked up at me. His cherry cheeks and evergreen-like eyes were so enchanting. I missed his fucking face. I miss everything about it.
"What?" He asked. He crossed his arms in a way that he was expecting some sass.
But no, there was no way I was giving him sass. He looked just as beautiful as the day I met him. All those recent changes in his appearance may have changed his outlook. But his personality, voice, eyes, and soft lips could never change. I sighed and admired how hot he was.
He groaned. "Well, spill it!"
"I still fucking love you!"
It just spilled out like water through my hands. Or like fire-burning paper. There was no way I expected that. Of course, it was true. It is. There was no doubt I was still deeply in love with him. But my pride was sure I would tell him I hated him even more. But It was just said otherwise.
"You... You..." Kyle stuttered. "Still love me?"
I let go of him and slapped my head over my face. Then I stared back at his starry eyes. "Yes. Kyle. I had always loved you from the very start. From the moment I laid eyes on you. I knew I wanted to love you for you. I wanted everything to do with you."
He sniffled. "Wallflower."
"I fucking love you. I will always love you-no matter who or whatever I would do. I love you. Forever, Butterfly."
He approached me and gave me a firm hug. Something different about this hug made me feel different and almost like an entirely new person. He held me tightly like I was the last person alive. It was unlike any hug I had ever gotten in my life. But it was worth it.
"I love you, too," Kyle whispered.
My heart shitted its pants. I swore my erection burst through my pants. I couldn't believe it after all this time. He still was in love with me. He must've been drunk or high or something. Even after eight months, he still wanted to be with me. I could not believe it. I tried to take off our clothes on this patio and have sex. But another part of my mind was doubtful that he said that too, despite me. But I knew my answer when I slightly moved in closer.
Our heartbeats were connecting in both areas. I swore this was just perfect. Better than any graduation ceremony I would've attended.
"Are you lying?" I whispered in his ears.
"Are you?" He replied, grazing his soft lips against my earlobe. I shivered and got frosted with goose pimples.
"No."
"Neither am I," Kyle revealed.
We looked at each. Face to face. Eyeing each other lips. I should be mad at him. I should get pissed for as long as eight months' worth. But my heart was tugging me toward his lips. I couldn't stay mad at him forever, so why not stop now? We got so close to kissing before someone called us.
We both groaned and looked back. A nurse approached us with a sorrowful glare. I knew it was bad news.
"Are you Terrance Reed?" She asked.
"That is I?" I jokingly said, mostly to make Kyle smile.
"Your father requested you to return to say goodbye to your mother," The nurse advised. She waved the clipboard and curled her lips in. "Come with me."
I nod.
Kyle started walking beside me, but the nurse stopped him. "I am with them." Kyle quickly protested.
"Yeah, but Terrance's father reported not for you to come as it is a serious time for them," the nurse mentioned.
Kyle groaned. "Okay."
I grabbed Kyle's hand and rubbed them. He looked up at me with a blush. I smiled with my eyes and said, "I'll see you later, Butterfly. Come by my house tomorrow."
"All right, my Wallflower," Kyle uttered. "Tomorrow."
I started walking in the other direction, leaving my butterfly behind. I wanted that moment to last forever. Not the arguing, but the hug and almost kissing. I wanted to kiss him so fucking bad.
I walked into Mother's room. The room was bleak and darker than the last time I was there. Father was standing over the bed like he was a grim reaper. Lina was on the chair, playing with her hair and tapping her feet together. Father was stroking Mother's hair like it was a delicate flower. It was looking at a moving painting.
I stepped beside her bedside and stared down at her. I felt oddly remorseful now. Exceptionally after Kyle had returned, this was blocking this emotion from me like it was a dam. I could feel bad for Mother, but I still radiated a strong pride. I placed my hand onto her hands and squeezed. She did not respond; she stared straight forward, barely breathing and looking like her eyes were drying out like the desert. I frowned upon my interaction.
"She looks beautiful with the sunset masquerading her eyes like a bouquet," Father whispered. He kept stroking her matted hair and letting his tears upon her dry skin.
"What are we going to do, Father?" I asked.
"Nothing. But wait till she dies, I suppose."
"Isn't that cruel?"
"Yes, but Canada does not allow assisting death," Father sighed, lowering his head. "We consider it a federal offence."
I glanced down at Mother, who was tearing up. I knew she could hear and listen to our conversations, which hurt even more than seeing her. Her helper's body could not move, or she could not speak. We all thought she would do better, but we were incredibly wrong. Even the doctors told us she was improving, but life can take curveballs at us, even if we don't ask for it.
Father leaned forward and laid his head against her body. "This is not fair, Terrance."
"Life isn't fair, but it is fucking precious," I whispered; I consoled my Father with a light back rub. I knew I could not do much but give him the hard truth. I wanted to say more than I was saying, but I felt lost for words, mostly because I felt terrible for Father, who was losing the love of his life. But I kept it to myself by not saying anything more.
We all waited for the next twenty minutes in silence, doing nothing, just waiting until Father got up and unplugged the heart monitor. I stared at him and tilted my head. I waited for him to notice I was confused. He sighed and said:
"I don't want her to hear the beeping anymore. It sounds rather unethical."
Moments had passed like time hadn't existed. It was just passing by as the sunset was at its last peak, and the sound of the tubes was revered. The shallow breathing of everyone sounded like a recital of a passing member had occurred. Father was praying under his breath. He rarely ever does, but when it happens. It was emotional. I stared out the window and waited.
The red hue splattered the sky as somebody knocked over the red paint bucket. It stretched and distorted around the clouds. I closed my eyes and imagined Kyle and what he was doing now. All I could think was how happy he was to return but still upset that he ran away. But I soon disputed it when I heard Mother's shallow breathing turned mute.
Father gasped and started wailing.
I kept my eyes toward the formative clouds forming like a castle. It reached higher than any cloud I've seen in my life. I sighed as I knew my mother had passed away. Only one tear came from my eyes. It quickly dried up like my face was sand.
I looked at a flock of passing birds, all adventuring across the horizon to where the sky and earth meet. I even think I saw a bird look back at me and smile.
I heard Father and Lina walking up from behind me. Father grabbed me into his grasp and looked out of the window. He was staring at the beautiful site. He sniffled and looked down at me.
I looked up at him. "I think I saw Mom. Flying in the flock of birds."
"Of course, she loved the idea of being a bird," He whimpered.
"Why?" Lina asked.
"So she can see the world from a different perspective."
I sighed. "I think she's happier."
"I do, too," Father whispered. "Kisâkihitin, my peacock. Fly high."