You're back, Mari

Chapter 20: Grief, and a Promise

"I'll be in here if you need me." Kel smiled, making himself comfortable on one of the church benches by lying down. Sunny wondered if that was disrespectful, but didn't care enough to mention it. Sunny nodded at Kel and left through the right back doors of the church.

He hadn't been here in a while.

Sunny glanced over the random graves as he walked, seeing puzzle pieces, flowers, and even a stuffed animal. He feels sad seeing that. Sunny shakes his head, returning to focus.

And as he makes his way towards Mari's grave, a dawning realization hits.

Was...his mother buried here, too? No, that can't be right...

Sunny quickly walks forward, standing in front of his sister's grave.

Our Dearest Mari; The sun shined brighter when she was here.

And to the right of her grave, another one stood under his mother's name.

A mother's love like an imperishable sun cannot go out.

Sunny stared at it.

That...

Who? Who chose that sentence? Don't...don't people wait a while to add an epitaph? Shouldn't family choose it? Why was it here? Why was his mom buried here? She lived in the city. They were supposed to live in the city.

...They were supposed to live in the city.

Sunny sat between the graves. He held his hands together tightly, unsure of what he was feeling.

"It's stupid." Sunny stared toward his mother's gravestone. "It's...so stupid."

Because the line honoring his mother wasn't true.

"You're lying." Sunny trembled. "You..." Sunny's lip quivered. His throat hurt. But he didn't care. He was angry. He wanted her to hear him. He needed her to hear him.

"I hate you." Sunny sniffled. "I hate you."

Deep down, there was blame.

If Mari hadn't needed to take care of Sunny, if Mari hadn't felt the need to be so perfect to be a good role model for him, it all would've never happened. She would've never yelled. He would've never gotten scared and tried to run away.

Mari would've never pushed him so hard.

And Sunny would've never pushed back.

But that wasn't the only source of his anger. It was deeper...incomprehensible. It twisted his thoughts and memories into a confusing, jumbled mess.

He wasn't sure if it was grief–he wasn't sure if he was capable of grieving his mother.

Yet...

"Why..."

He's crying.

"Why am I sad...?"

"You should be glad I came back at all. Your father was smart for leaving. Now I'm stuck with you."

"I..."

"Stop crying! You don't deserve to cry! Look at me–look at me! This is your fault!"

"You were...horrible..."

"You're a curse. You're the reason my life has become like this. You ruined everything."

"I'm supposed to be relieved...that you're gone..."

"Stop throwing a tantrum! It couldn't have hurt that bad! Get up!"