I tried to speak again, closing the gap between us but was cut off when my grandmother's hand grabbed my forearm roughly. "We're leaving for Morocco, and I don't want to hear your voice until then."
I looked at the nurse, hoping she could help and save me, as she said she would. Even though I do not deserve to be saved. But... I just want to see Papa one last time. The nurse refused to look me in the eyes and instead turned to my aunt, informing her that his body would be delivered to the airport in two days.
My aunt signed the final papers required from her, giving the hospital permission to move Papa's body and fly him to Morocco for burial.
I can't believe what I'm hearing. I lost him.
It's my fault.
Another tall man approaches us, my grandmother says something I don't understand, and we all walk outside the hospital with him. A large black car was waiting outside, and the man motioned for us to enter.
Who is that man? Why do my aunt and grandmother just sit there and listen to him? I didn't do anything either, being dragged along by my grandmother. We went inside and they exchanged a strange look and said something in a language I couldn't understand. The man was on the phone and only said a few yeses before hanging up. He returned his gaze to my aunt and informed her that our flight would depart in four hours.
That man apparently moved their original flight date, which was supposed to be in three weeks, to today. I wanted to say something but couldn't because the look on their faces, whenever I made even the slightest movement, shut me down.
The next few hours flew by. My aunt is packing everything important from our house in two large bags, in addition to their own bags. I'd never seen anyone move as quickly as she did. My grandmother kept me by her side as she looked around the house, with sadness written all over her face.
My eyes welled up with tears, which I quickly wiped away. I don't deserve to be sad. Papa died because of my actions.
My aunt grabbed everything and motioned us to the car. I returned for one more glance before she shut the front door to my childhood home.
As his presence alerted everyone, the man followed every move we made. I never imagined airport check-in could be any faster. We were already on the plane after only thirty minutes. The man remained with us and entered the pilot cabin with the senior cabin crew. They looked at us when they came out.
The heat of their stares burned into my skin. When I looked at my aunt and grandmother, I noticed that they were both nervous and scared.
Not sad. Scared.
I kept my eyes closed and my head down. It's entirely my fault.
Tik, tik, tik...
When I looked up, I noticed a female cabin crew member wearing a black watch that made the same noise. Another male crew member advised the passengers to fasten their seat belts because the plane was about to board.
The female crew was inspecting our row when she bowed her head slightly to my grandmother, who mumbled in the same language I didn't understand. When I looked at her, I noticed a smirk on her sad face.
It was gone when I blinked.
Everything I know is gone.
Tik, tik, tik.
Comments (0)
See all