RUN AWAY
48
Amy : I’m sorry I won’t be here for the funeral.
Amy : My doctors advised against flying, as my pregnancy is considered high risk.
Amy : I’m really sorry for your loss. I wish we had more time to reconnect.
PRUDENCE
My hand tightens around Nate’s way larger one.
Anchor me, please, anchor me, I say with this simple action.
It’s been 5 days.
5 nights that I haven’t been able to sleep. 5 days that I haven’t been able to get out of bed. 5 days since the oldest light in my life has died out, replaced by a thick dark fog.
I don’t know if Nate has moved my things as I haven’t left Jack’s bed for some time now. The mattress occasionally dips with Nuri, Evie, Ikram, or Nate’s weight when they come to hold and mourn with me.
I don’t think I can do it.
“Prudence,” Nate’s soft voice says.
I open my eyes.
People wearing black clothes and dark faces are staring at me. Not many people , I think. Important people , the other side of my brain adds.
Ikram and his whole family are standing right behind me. I can hear him try and fail to hold his sobs. His mother’s hand is placed softly on my shoulder. I don’t even know this woman, and yet, she mourns him with me like she’s known us all her life. I’m sure she’s lovely. Maybe I’ll have the strength to look at her one day and not crumble to the floor thinking of the kindness she’s shown us when we were only strangers.
Evie’s silent tears are running down her face, her hands fumbling with the stem of the flower. I don’t think she’s ever been just a personal care worker. I might have fooled myself for a whole week, but she dug her way into our hearts from the moment her smiling face and happy personality burst into our lives.
I’ve never seen Nuri somber. She always said that wearing black made her look older, and she’s right. Her straight dark hair is pulled back, making her discreet half Asian heritage more obvious. And when I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her wear anything black for the long years I’ve known her.
She feels guilty for arriving too late, but she doesn’t understand that it wouldn’t have changed anything.
From the moment we arrived at the hospital, Jack forbade us to be in the room with him until his very last breath.
And having been denied the right to say goodbye is killing me. Killing Ikram. Killing us all.
Tham, Naveen, and their wives came too. I think they tried to talk to me earlier. I don’t recall what they said.
Claudio is holding Scarlett in his arms while she’s crying silently, his own eyes glassy with unshed tears.
Nate hasn’t let go of my hand since we got out of the car. Anchoring me. Supporting me. Grieving the loss of the best friend he only recently reunited with.
I want to scream. I want to fall and claw at the earth, yell at the sky for stealing away my brother. For taking a life that deserved more than what it received.
From what I overheard, our father is out of the hospital and well. They did not show up for their lost son’s funeral.
“Prudence, sweetness,” Nate whispers again, and I slowly lift my face to look at him.
His eyes are red. Probably from crying by my side in Jack’s bed. Maybe because he hasn’t slept much either in the last couple of days. Definitely because I might have lost a brother, but he did too.
“Take your time sweetness. Once you’re ready to give them the go ahead, they’ll lower the coffin into the grave.”
My heart quickens in my chest and the back of my throat tightens. I feel the first tear rolling down my cheek before the back of my eyes even prickles.
I can’t do it.
I can’t do it.
“I—I’m—I can’t—”
“Shh, it’s alright,” he says, enveloping me in his arms, but I hear the waver in his voice. I hear the sob threatening to break from his throat. I hear him crumble inside.
My knees give out and meet the wet grass, Nate falling to kneel next to me. I feel arms wrapping around me from everywhere, hands stroking my arms, reassuring presence surrounding me from all sides until we’re just a mass of people holding each other on the ground.
A cry tears free from my throat and Ikram grabs my free hand, sobbing on my shoulder.
I can faintly hear people talking over my own cries, and from the corner of my eyes, I see the coffin being lowered down before my view is blocked and I snap my eyes shut.
There’s no way to know how long we’ve stayed here, but the moment I open my eyes, the pallbearers are gone and the sky has darkened, drizzling falling from it.
Evie is sitting on a bench with Nuri, Claudio, and Scarlett. Tham and Naveen are standing in front of the grave, their hands in their pockets, heads low. Ikram is sitting next to me on the ground, his sisters holding him. His mother behind, holding his father’s hand.
Nate is behind me. Holding me.
But an old man I don’t know is standing silently a few feet away, holding papers, seemingly waiting for us.
When our eyes meet, he nods and takes a few steps back, waiting in front of me. Nate helps me stand up and I don’t bother wiping the mud and grass from my dress.
“Miss Willow?” he asks, his tone formal. Not affected. Someone who probably assists a lot of sad events.
I nod, my throat too raw to speak.
“I’m the executor of Mr. Willow’s will. I’ve been charged to recover and give you these letters. They are from your brother, written in the span of a few years. They are addressed to you, along with—”
I tune out his words, staring at the large stack of paper he is holding. Letters . He wrote me letters. Why did he write me letters when we were living together? Seeing and talking to each other daily? What can be on those letters that he wouldn’t say to me in person?
He holds the stack up, and I just stare. And stare, and stare. Unable to move.
Letters.
They land in my arms and my breath hitches in my throat. The man leaves. And I don’t know what he said. And I don’t know what is going on.
People are staring at me again.
Pity.
They share my grief, but they don’t understand. They don’t know. I’ve lost him. I’ve lost my sun and I’m lost without his light.
Letters .
All I have left of him.
He’s gone, and he took a piece of my soul with him.
I take a step back, holding the thick pile of paper, stepping away from our friends. From our family. From Nate .
He looks at me with a mix of sadness and confusion, but I can’t stay here. I can’t look at them, looking at me. I’ve lost Jack. I’ve lost the best part of myself.
They won’t care for me now that he’s gone, because I’ve always been his sister. I’ve only shone because his light reflected on me. He was the solar one. He was the light that brightened the room.
And it’s so dark here now.
I turn around.
I feel their eyes on my back. I hear their voices calling me.
I don’t turn. I can’t turn.
I walk faster, losing my shoes behind me.
Faster. Faster.
I run.
Run away.
I need to run. I need to leave. I need to go before my darkness swallows them.
Before their own light dies out.