𝓡𝓮𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻

Friday, August 27.

I arrived home after a long day of studies. My mother was sitting in the chair in the kitchen. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t help but observe her until it seemed she read a message. Her face looked relieved, and she was holding back a big smile. "Your aunt's husband died," she said.

I had forgotten how to breathe. A great wave of happiness spread throughout my body.

"Really, mom?" I asked, desperate.

"Yes, kid. I wouldn't joke about these things."

I ran to my room and couldn't hold back, just like my mother, the happiness that lingered throughout my body.

Sunday, August 28. 𓅪

It was the day of the funeral. I couldn't sleep just thinking about her. Finally, she had freed herself from that nightmare of a marriage. Finally, she was free for me to have her all to myself. Just thinking that on the morning that was dawning, I would see her again filled me with ecstasy and joy.

It was raining. Everything felt melancholic, like a movie when a character dies, leaving everything so sad. But now it's different; this is real life, and nobody will care that he died. Absolutely no one.

Hours passed, and my nervousness grew. The happiness of being able to see you grew too. Hours went by, the mass finished, and the time for the burial arrived, yet I still hadn't found you. How could this be? You hated him so much that you couldn't even come to the funeral? I thought, disappointed.

 

It was raining. Everything felt melancholic, like a movie when a character dies, leaving everything so sad. But now it's different; this is real life, and nobody will care that he died. Absolutely no one.

Hours passed, and my nervousness grew. The happiness of being able to see you grew too. Hours went by, the mass finished, and the time for the burial arrived, yet I still hadn't found you. How could this be? You hated him so much that you couldn't even come to the funeral? I thought, disappointed.

I couldn't believe I wouldn't be able to see you today. So, I stayed until almost everyone had left, waiting for you. Then, a woman dressed in black, who had been at the mass, came into view. I couldn't see her face clearly because her hair was in front of it.

She carried a wilted rose. Instead of gently placing it on the grave, she threw it down and spat on it in anger.

"I hate you! I hate you!" she shouted. 

I couldn't help but be surprised, but even more so when she turned around. Our eyes met, and it was her, my aunt. My heart skipped a beat. She was still beautiful as ever, and my desire for her was stronger than ever.

"Aunt!" I shouted, filled with happiness.

"Nana," she said, surprised and softly.

My only reaction, the most honest I had ever had in my life, was to go to her and hug her. She buried herself in my arms and began to cry. I couldn't believe she was crying for that miserable man. So, did that mean she had been happy in her marriage all these years? On one hand, I was glad to have found her, to be hugging her, but on the other, seeing her cry so desperately broke my heart.

Two minutes comforting her. The longest two minutes of my life, the most precious. Every second I held her, feeling her breath, her heartbeat, made me feel as if I were in a waking dream.

Upon hearing footsteps, she quickly pulled away from me, ending the magic I was feeling in my entire body.

It was my mother, coming to find me, carrying an umbrella for me. 

— Clarice? — my mother asked, surprised.

— Marcele!

My mother dropped the umbrella, and the two ran to embrace each other, rekindling the bond they had missed.

— Marcele, what are you doing out in this rain, little sister?

Auntie did nothing but hold her older sister tightly. It seemed like she was afraid of being separated from her sister again.

This scene was emotional. Thankfully, it was raining, so no one noticed that I was also crying from so much emotion.

— Marcele, what are you doing standing out in the rain?! Do you want to catch a cold? Grab your umbrella!

— Let’s go to mom’s house. She made the cake you love so much.

— No! I won’t step foot in that house! my aunt said with hatred.

— Are you still angry? It’s been so long.

— It’s because you didn’t suffer all this time!

— I know it’s been hard for you to lose…

Clarice abruptly pulled away, hatred in her eyes.

— I thought you would understand me — my aunt said, disappointed.

And she ran out of the cemetery.

— Wait! Where are you going in this rain?!

I couldn’t just stand there watching her leave again. The thought of losing her and never seeing her again drove me to despair, so I ran after her.

— Where are you going, Dylan!? You’ll get lost!

She might get lost, but I wouldn’t let her be alone again. She ran, and I chased after her.

I could no longer see my mother.

— Aunt, you can stop! We’re far enough away.

She slowed down until she stopped and turned to face me. Her eyes were red, her face tired, her breathing heavy. She looked a mess. The strong winds made her shiver from the cold; she was soaked.

I wanted to give her my jacket, but it was useless; I was drenched too.

— Let’s go home. At this rate, you’ll catch a cold, aunt.

— What home? — she asked, sadly. 

I couldn’t tell if it was rainwater or tears sliding down her cheeks.

— Your home.

— I don’t want to go there… not now.

— But you’ll get sick like this.

— Hahaha. I see you haven’t changed at all, always worried about me.

She melted my heart with her sudden smile.

— Look how you’ve grown — she said, touching my face.

If it weren’t raining, I’m sure she would hear the pounding of my heart.

— And where are you going now?

— I don’t know, dear.

— Let’s go to my house. You can borrow my mom's clothes.

— I don’t know, I feel awkward going out like this.

— It’s okay. She loves you. She won’t forgive herself if you get sick.

— Alright, I’ll go, dear. 

Ah, you’ve grown so much that hearing you call me ‘ma’am’ makes me feel old. Haha. Call me ‘you’ from now on.

— Okay.

Old? You still look the same as when I was little. Simply beautiful.

— Let's take a taxi, aunt, I suggested. 

She nodded in agreement. 

For the first time, I saw a black taxi and was enchanted. 

— Look, aunt, how cool! A black taxi, let's get in it. 

She suddenly froze, as if she were paralyzed.

— No! Not a black car!

— Alright... I'm sorry.

Clarice sighed and said, "I'm sorry, dear, it's not your fault. I just don't like black cars."

She took my arm and was trembling; it didn't seem to be from the cold.