Together, we heal | Levi Ackerman

༅ 15. Three Lessons

Life in the Underground, Part 9: Three Lessons

Year 844

In the weeks that followed after the death of her mother, Vanya learned three lessons.

1. Grief absolutely sucks.

The simplest way she could describe it is through the classic debate of whether you view a glass of water as half-full or half-empty. If you would ask Vanya what she sees, she would say 'neither'. Because the glass that she visualizes in her head will always be empty. Even when you politely offer to pour her water, no matter what source it came from, be it from the streams of freshwater from the alps or from the rainwater that underwent a tedious process of distillation right after a rainstorm -- empty.

Vanya didn't care where the water came from; what mattered was who was holding the pitcher.

And she realized that the glass would always be empty unless it was her mother pouring her a glass like she always would during Sunday mornings at the table, just in time for breakfast. Mineral-rich water, saltwater, fresh orange juice, or tea, whatever Lily offered, Vanya would take it. As long as it was her mother. Even if Lily would only pour a quarter or even just a drop, Vanya would always view her cup as "full" because the radiant and kind smile that came with her mother's gesture would always be there to make her world complete.

Now, her world was barren and unquenchable. Everything felt so empty but so heavy from the void that was taking up so much space inside of her. There were some days when the world got too loud and overwhelming that she had to cover her ears from the screeching buzzes. The crickets in the night rang livelier, the small sounds as simple as the doors shutting would make her jump, and the inner devilish voices in her head grew more incessant as it screamed, "if only you were smart enough to find a cure then maybe you would have saved her".

But most days, her world was still, and muffled, as if she was submerged underwater. Everything was dim due to the refracted light and everything just felt hazy, numb and quiet as she succumbed into the abysmal depth of her loneliness.

She found it difficult to hear things clearly. Whenever Furlan would coax her to eat her food, she wouldn't understand a word because it felt like his voice was drowning. Even Isabel's high-pitched persistent pesters, she couldn't make out. Thus, Vanya struggled through the slow motions of her days reading people's lips, nodding and pretending she understood when deep down she didn't.

And who knew grief could make you feel a ton of paradoxes? Vanya felt like she was trapped in a silent but lethal game of tug-of-war -- she'd feel everything and nothing. She didn't need anyone, but everyone, and then some. She wanted to scream and hit her head but sometimes she'd rather mewl and cower in her bed. She wanted Furlan, Isabel, and Levi with her but most times, the sight of them would just exhaust the hell out of her.

All these opposites colliding against each other made it difficult for her to breathe but she welcomed it simply because she didn't have a choice -- when grief knocked at her door, they just barged in and wreaked havoc all over the place.

So, yes, grief did suck. She couldn't sleep, eat, talk, nor take a bath for her dear life. It sucked so bad that her three best friends thought it would be best that Vanya stayed at the hideout for the time being, instead of being cooped up in her trashy and gloomy home where her mother took her last breath.

And staying at the hideout for weeks through her grieving process helped Vanya gain a knowledge she didn't need at all. But nonetheless, she took it, making it her lesson number 2.