Forever In My Heart

Chapter 27

⭐"Stop expecting everyone to have the same heart as you."⭐
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I walked home. The evening air helped me relax.

As I step through the door, I put my stuff down and go to see Mr. Diggels.

He seems very busy scratching something under his small wooden house.

I watch him and smile. Better leave him alone, for once that he's moving a bit!

I think back to my conversation with Jake. I never thought I'd talk to him about the accident. To think that I've always been so careful in avoiding the subject with my friends...

I sigh softly and look at the top of the piece of furniture facing me.

It's still there, it hasn't moved since I moved in. It's there at the top, behind the cuddly toys, well out of my sight.

I go on tiptoes, catching it at arm's length.

I sit down on the sofa and fix for a moment the shoe box that I'm holding nervously in my hands.

A tear rolls down my cheek.

Very slowly, I lift the lid taking a deep breath.

They're here.

My parents. My little brother. Our family photos. Those where we're all happy, all four of us.

It's been 8 years now that they disappeared in that terrible accident...

I always wondered why, on that day, I decided not to go with them for our usual Sunday outing.

At 17, I was more into going out with my friends than flying with my parents.

Dad, his plane was his pride and joy. He had put a lot of his savings into his Cessna 172 that he pampered like a baby.

He loved telling us about it, making us discover the world from up high. I think it was in his DNA.

He'd passed down his passion to me. I had promised myself to take my pilot's license if I passed my final exams.

It was a Sunday like any other. The sky was clear blue, the conditions were perfect for flying.

I had been bickering with my little brother who had for the umpteenth time broken something in my room.

And I was still angry with my mother because, the day before, I had tried to no avail, to convince her to let me go to a disco.

It's crazy how you remember little things.  Simple moments of daily life. Before they go up in smoke.

They left the house late in the morning and never came home.

Why? A vulture that was flying by collided with them.

"An unfortunate chain of circumstances," said the policeman who came ringing on our door that night.

At the time I remember listening as if my mind had left my body. As if I was watching the scene from afar as if it wasn't real.

It took me several days to realize that they were dead, that they would not come back and that nothing would ever be the same again.

I learned what it was like to feel pain, real pain. The one that twists your guts, that clasps your heart and chokes it.

That horrible feeling of despair that stays with you for months.

I lived with my grandparents until my majority, when I went as far away as I could.

Not that they didn't take good care of me, but I needed to get a change of air. I thought leaving would help my wound to heal.