Her solace was the tears she shed in the middle of the night, when she knew there was no one to listen to her sobs or notice her wet pillow..
He found salvation in the blood that often oozed out of his hand.
When their paths meet, will the blood be...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I don't know when I fall asleep on my bed but when I wake up panting, the clock reads 7:00 PM. I feel dizzy and it takes all my effort to pick myself up from the nice blue bedsheet.
I am surprised to see no pyjamas laid out on my bed. Two days after Max was gone, my mom had started doing things for me. Ironing my clothes, packing my bag, cleaning my room, like I am too fragile to pull myself up.
But today is different.
The room is untidy, the books are scattered all over my room, there are no pyjamas on the bed. Maybe my mom finally realized that it's time for me to move on.
I lazily walk myself to the cupboard and pull it open. I haven't opened this cupboards myself for months. We shared the cupboard when he was still there - the left side was his, the right mine. But we never cared who wore what. I force myself not to look at the left part, but my eyes gradually fall on it.
His jackets and jeans are all put in neat hangers, and I know my mom had opened it to clean it up. Max was never the clean one.
My eyes fall on the golden covered album tucked under the drawer. My heart is beating like I have just ran a marathon and I can't stop it.
My hands are shaking as I lift it up.
The first page on the photo is enough to have the headache coming back. We are both very tiny babies, hardly two weeks old.
As I flip through the album, we both grow. They are full of memories, the first time both of us walked by ourselves, we both driving the same toy car, our first day at school, all our birthdays, our first cricket match, and lastly the photo we last took.
We are both wearing cool sunglasses and hugging each other in the blazing sun. Mom had insisted on taking that photo saying we hadn't took one in ages. It was two days before his death.
My eyes are now blood shot and everything hurts. I close down the album with a thud and my hands automatically reach towards the blade.
