•••

It wasn't true. It couldn't be true. I shook my head disbelievingly at Cliff, waiting for him to point an 'I-gotcha' finger and laugh at how he almost pranked me.

He didn't.   

Cliff just stood there, wearing a solemn look, gazing into my eyes as if gauging for a reaction. After a few moments of silence, I started shaking my head incessantly.

"No," I looked away from his sad expression, feeling my throat close up and my eyes get watery which was an oncoming sign of the balancing tears. "No!"

"Red! Snap out of it!"

I glanced at Cliff. His shoulders were slumped and he wore a defeated look. "She's gone, OK?"

My right hand flew to my mouth as I almost let out a choked sob. I could hear myself whimpering and the sound of my heart. The thumping of it was strangely painful for some reason.

Cliff came closer and I lost it. I tried struggling against his grip but I couldn't resist for long. I felt my body slowly grow limp against Cliff's embrace, and it was as though some weight had been placed on my shoulder. Chest constricting, hot tears rolling down my cheeks, my heart thumping painfully against my ribcage. Every beat felt like lead being pumped through my veins, arteries. My throat closed up, and I found myself not being able to breathe properly. As a result, I ended up choking on unsteady gasps of air.

As much as Cliff's hands tried to soothe my back, it was far from comforting.

Mom was gone.

"H-How-" I tried exhaling out but I couldn't finish the sentence.

My brother hugged me tightly. "Shh, keep calm, Red. Relax-"

I suddenly pushed him away. "No Cliff!" I surprised both of us by yelling. "How can I relax when . . . when mom . . ." I trailed off as I wiped away the stray tears that rolled down.

"Red . . . listen," said Cliff as he attempted to take a step towards me once more. I blatantly took two steps back and folded my arms across my chest.

"J-Just tell m-me, Cliff," I said. "Please."

I saw my brother hang his head low for a while and run a hand through his hair; a habit he portrayed whenever he was nervous. At least something hadn't changed.

"Plane crash," he finally let out. "Two years ago."

"Two years?" I couldn't believe my ears.

Cliff nodded. "Boeing 727. It crashed on Mount Kilimanjaro as it headed towards South Africa. No one survived."

As the silence ensued after his revelation, I could not help but think of how one of my worst fears had taken place. And, being in the state I was right now -that is, not being able to remember, I couldn't tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

On instinct, I turned towards the wall and scanned it. Dozens of family pictures were hanged. I saw photographs of me in ways I had never imagined I could end up looking like, with platinum blonde hair and designer clothes. Cliff and Dawn and Dad and the dog were included in most of the photos; poses portraying happy moments frozen in time.

My eyes landed on a framed photo next to the corner. I saw mom, in her crimson air hostess uniform. And there I was with Cliff and Dawn, holding a suitcase.

Cliff seemed to have seen my direction of gaze for he said, "That was the last photo we took with her before she died."

My mom was always overseas. Her job as an air hostess demanded that much of course. I had always dreaded that one day she'd kiss us goodbye and never come back. And my dread had just become a reality.

Using the sleeve of my cloth, I wiped away the hot tears and tore my gaze away from the photos to face my brother. "W-What about dad?"

He sighed. "Dad's OK. He's in Geneva. United Nations Conference."

"OK," I said to myself. "I'll see him soon, right?"

Cliff merely gave a sad smile. "Everything's going to be OK, Red."

"No, it's not," I shook my head. "Everything's changed and I'm not prepared for it!"

I stomped away from him, feeling mad and sad at the same time. The unshed tears blinded me momentarily as I attempted to walk around the unfamiliar house. I'd never been here before but I tried acting as though I knew where I was going.

But then I stopped. I turned to face Cliff once again. "Did . . . I at least attend the funeral?"

He nodded. I did not know if that made me feel better or worse. Knowing that I attended my mother's funeral but not being able to remember.

I kept going down the corridor that led away from the living room. Ahead, to my right, I saw a door. I went through it and found the kitchen. It was immaculately clean and I barely noticed the marble counter in the middle, because all I wanted to do was sob my heart out at the thought of never seeing my mom again.

Slumping down, I held my head and let go.

Why mom? Why did it have to be you?

*-*-*-*

She had died on February 14th. As I stood next to the grave, my heart yearned for all the times I did not savor the little moments I had with my mom. All the moments I didn't remember having with her. When was the last time I told her I loved her? Did I tell her before she left? Had I argued with her? What was the last thing she said to me?

I knew all of these questions I could have asked Cliff, but my frustration of not being able to remember held me back. I felt angry at myself. How and why could I not remember anything by now?

I let out a sigh as I dropped the wreath on the grave.

"I'll always love you, mom."

•••

i'm a bitch in not updating and I'm sorry but life keeps effing me up over and over again. I'm trying x