— Ravi! — someone called, their voice cutting through the silence.

But he didn't answer. Still lost in his thoughts of grief, his eyes remained fixed on the tombstone. He couldn't or perhaps didn’t want to accept that reality.

— Ravi! — the voice insisted, now closer.

— We need to go.

Without a word, Ravi allowed himself to be led, his steps heavy like the atmosphere around him. He got into the car that would take him away from that gloomy place, but the pain remained, like a shadow he couldn’t escape.

When he arrived home, the door creaked softly, as if it too shared Ravi's pain, sympathizing with his weary soul. He walked through the rooms like a wandering spirit, dragging his feet. Every sound that echoed through the walls seemed more terrifying than anything else in the world, for they were not just sounds they were echoes of the past.

In the kitchen, he heard, as clear as the day, the gentle and loving voice he had always cherished:

— Ravi, my love, could you help me with this cake?

He stopped, frozen in place, and murmured hoarsely, as if trying to revive that moment:
— I’ll help...

But, like smoke in the wind, the memory faded away. Ravi shook his head and walked toward his room, trying to escape the suffocating weight of his own mind.

When he opened the door, he found the space clean, yet completely disordered. It was as if the room was a perfect reflection of his mind: confused, chaotic, and filled with fragments he didn’t know how to piece together. Without even removing the wrinkled, dirty clothes from the day, he let his body fall onto the bed.

With his eyes fixed on the ceiling, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small metal lighter. The object, worn by time, bore a hand-engraved inscription: "With love, Mom."

Ravi gripped the lighter tightly, feeling the texture of the engraved letters beneath his fingers. He knew, deep down, that he could never use it again without being consumed by the memories. And then, finally, the tear he had held back for so long slipped free. A tear that brought with it a flood, a river of accumulated pain and sorrow.

He cried. He cried for the loss, for the longing, for the helplessness and the emptiness that now filled the space once occupied by the person he loved most. His tears blurred his vision, until his weary eyes closed, and, surrendered to the weight of the day, Ravi finally succumbed to exhaustion.

— Ravi! — a voice called to him, soft but filled with urgency.

— My precious boy, get up!

He opened his eyes slowly and saw her. His mother was there, as beautiful and radiant as he remembered. Her golden skin shimmered like the sun, and her curls, soft and flowing, seemed like the waves of the sea. She was just as she had always been: strong, graceful, and full of life.

— Ravi, you need to go — she said again, with clear concern in her eyes.

He remained silent, struggling against the meaning of her words.

— Get up and go! — she insisted, her voice more firm.

Ravi shook his head, refusing to yield.
— I’m not going anywhere without you, Mom! — he replied, his voice thick with emotion. — I'm sorry, but this time, I won’t obey you.

She looked at him for a moment, and then, with her characteristic tenderness, she hugged him tightly. She slid her fingers gently across Ravi's forehead, pushing his hair back until she touched the tip of his nose a gesture he knew so well.

— My path has come to an end, my boy, — she said, her voice full of affection. — But yours has not. You need to move forward.

Their tight embrace was interrupted when she looked off into the distance. Her eyes filled with concern, and the urgency in her voice returned.

— Ravi, you need to go!

— I told you, I won’t!— he insisted.

— YOU NEED TO GO! — she shouted, a desperation cutting through the air like a blade.

Ravi shook his head, tears streaming down his face.
— I WON’T! — he yelled, his voice echoing like that of a lost child.

But then, suddenly, the emptiness. His mother was no longer there. She seemed to shout something, but no sound came from her lips. Around him, a curtain of smoke began to form, thick and suffocating. It grew stronger, obscuring everything until Ravi, coughing and gasping for air, opened his eyes.

The smell of smoke filled his lungs. The flames were already consuming his room, red and ravenous, turning everything around him to ashes. He leapt out of bed, grabbing the first thing he saw: his backpack, scorched at the edges.

As he ran toward the door, he noticed something on the floor. The lighter. He couldn’t leave it behind. Ravi turned back to grab it, but the flames grew fiercer, licking the walls and advancing with an uncontrollable ferocity. There was no more time.

With the lighter clutched in his hand, he ran and leapt through the door, racing through the chaos in a final burst of energy. Behind him, the flames devoured the remnants of his house, leaving only ashes and smoke.

When he stood up, breathless, he realized he was no longer where he had expected. Before him, a dirt road stretched out, flanked by exotic plants and vibrant flowers. The air had a citrusy, soft scent, so distant from the chaotic scene of moments ago.

Confused, shocked, and exhausted, Ravi collapsed to his knees on the dusty ground. His mind was on the edge of collapse. He finally let himself fall, lying in the dust as the weight of the moment pulled him into silence.