11.Orchids

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"I am in therapy for it."

Noah's words kept resonating in my head.

It made me realize I was being ignorant.

I wasn't the only one suffering. They were fighting their own battles, too.

Last night, I shouldn't have mocked Eveline like that. I should have respected their boundaries. They were mourning the loss of a parent. What right did I have to pour salt on their wounds?

Even though I hold no respect or affection for my father, I decided I would still go to his funeral out of respect for my siblings.

And who knows, it could give me closure, too.

If not that, at least, it would make Eveline a little less sad.

I didn't have much time left. It was a quarter to three, Stephen had said the funeral was at 4.

I had never been to a funeral before. Wasn't there a custom to wear black?

I rummaged through my bag, which still remained unpacked, for black formal clothes. It didn't take much time or effort for I could count the number of clothes I had with one hand.

Back there, I didn't really have the luxury to go shopping. And the man whose funeral I had to attend didn't care enough to buy me new clothes.

Should I drop the idea of going then?

Eveline walked into my room, looking at me apologetically, "I knocked but you weren't answering."

I nodded, letting her know I didn't mind.

"Did you change your mind about going?" Eveline asked, fidgeting with a loose lock of her hair. A habit she often did when she was nervous.

"No, it's still the same." I didn't want to make her sad but I didn't have any clothes to wear there.

As expected, she looked disappointed at my refusal until her eyes fell on the clothes in my hand. She looked at them and then at my face.

"I got it!" Her eyes lit up.

She rushed out of the room and not even a second later she came back with a black dress, "You can wear this. It will perfectly fit you."

Was she pitying me?

But her innocent eyes held nothing but understanding.

"No thanks," I refused, regardless of her intention I didn't want to borrow her clothes.

"Why not? We used to share clothes when we were kids all the time." She asked, confused why I would refuse.

"That was before. It's different now." I reasoned.

"It's different only if you want it to be." She passed me a smile, letting me know it was my choice. She would understand regardless of what I chose.

"Alright," I sighed, "But this is the only time."

"Yes, absolutely." Eveline quickly nodded; afraid I'd change my mind.

After I changed into the dress, she insisted on doing my hair. My hair was long, the same length as Eveline's. It was troublesome to style it myself, so I let her do it.

"We look the same," Eveline said, excited.

She was right. She had put my hair in a French braid, identical to hers. Pair that with similar black outfits and no one could tell us apart.

It was like looking in a mirror. Except for Eveline's ever-lasting cheerful smile which I lacked. I wanted that.

I yearned for that.

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