Chapter 6: Past

I silence the alarm before it rings; it's not as if I'll be waking up anyway.

My eyes squint at the sudden exposure of light oozing from my phone screen, and I see that it's 6 a.m.

Normally, at this time, my mom would burst through my door and crawl on top of me. As her weight crushes me, I'd have no choice but to get up.

It's weird. But weird was my mother's thing.

Now my room is dark and still, void of her. It's in these moments that I miss her the most, when I realise that she is my world.

So even though I know that today is Monday and months have passed, I sink lower into my covers and resume staring at the ceiling.

My room has become my cocoon. I sit replaying that afternoon over and over again. Sobbing until my skin feels raw and my throat feels gritty. I still can't come to a full realisation because it feels like yesterday since she was last here.

It doesn't feel like months. The void in my chest is still in full effect. It sucks every breath I take and leaves me suffocating. Now, warm tears creep from my eyes, as if they're tired of being so frequent.

I startle upon hearing a soft knock. For a second, hope is a light in my chest, blooming at the thought of him being the one to knock. But it's snuffed out when I hear the voice behind the door.

"Serena?" Louise calls, "Can I come in?"

My head spins as I try to sit up.

"Yes, you can, Lou," I reply, trying to run my fingers through my matted hair, "just leave the lights off."

I don't want her...or anyone, for that matter, to see me like this. I have barely left the house since the funeral.

I find that every time I try to live normally, I keep having meltdowns at the most inconvenient times. Which leads to me blacking out and waking up thinking my mom is alive.

Yes, it sounds insane. I might even be insane at this point, or well on my way.

I throw off my duvet to sit on the edge of my bed. The light from the hallway illuminates her face for a second before she closes the door behind her.

"You've been in here for a couple of days now," she says, her voice sympathetic, "I wanted to check on you."

"I'm fine," I whisper, though it's far from the truth.

"No, you're not, and that's okay."

I nod, though she can't see me. After a beat of silence, I hear her step closer.

"Here," she offers, "have some water."

My fingers brush against hers as I take the glass from her palm. I don't refuse; my throat burns from thirst. I finish it in one gulp, silently wishing she had more there with her.

"Thank you," I say, "I needed that."

"I know you did. You can't keep torturing yourself, you know?"

I shake my head, "I'm not."

"Then what is this?" she asks, the bed sinking under her weight as she sits beside me.

"I don't know Lou...I don't know," tears threaten to spill, and my throat burns from holding them back.

Louise wraps her arms around me, guiding me into her chest. Unconsciously, my arms slip around her waist, seeking a sliver of comfort. No one allows me to explain what it feels like. They offer their unsolicited advice, tell me they're sorry, and that it will be okay.

I just want a hug, for someone to hold me while I break. I've been breaking all alone. The one person I expected to be here with me is on the other end of a vast sea.

"I got you, I'm here," she whispers against my hair.

And that's all that I need to hear. That someone...anyone is here with me in this very dark hole.

When I finally tear myself away from Louise, her dress is soaked, and my voice is a hoarse whisper.

Her thumb slides against my cheek, "she's sad too, you know."

"Who?" I ask, attempting to dry my face with my shirt but deciding against it the moment my nose caught a whiff.

"Miss Sofia. She didn't want to leave you either, and I know it is hard for her to see you like this. Her baby girl."

"Louise, you can't say stuff like that."

"I'm sorry. But I know she would want you to take care of yourself. Make the best of each day."

I gulp, "even if she isn't here to make it brighter?"

Louise tilts my chin, "just know that she's always with you, and you can keep her memories alive by shining bright. The way she always did."

The bitter chill seeps through my bones. Allowing me to welcome a feeling I've been shunning for too long...hope. "Thanks, Lou."

A small smile graces her face as she stands, "your dad says he wants you to join him for breakfast."

"Wait! Can you hit the lights, please?"

Before she does, I cover my face with my palms. When warm light floods the room, I blink a few times before removing my hands. I stare at her.

"Are you being serious?"

"Yes. He told me earlier."

My brows furrow, "Did something happen? Is he planning on sending me away?"

She purses her lips, "Serena, I'm sure that's not the case."

I swallow hard, "You'd tell me if it was bad, right?"

"Of course. But he's your father. Surely you know how much he loves you. He wouldn't send you away." Lou reassures.

But I'm not so sure if I know the man I call dad anymore.

I don't know the man who locks himself away in his study and drowns in liquor. I don't know the man who howls in the backyard at night, smashing things. And most of all...I don't know the man who ignores and gives no care to the well-being of his only daughter.

She touches my shoulder after I've gone silent, "Have breakfast with your father. He left his study this morning and requested a meal to be prepared. That's a good sign."

"Okay, I'll get ready then," I respond, looking away.

My stomach gnaws as my mind feeds itself with all the frightening possibilities that confronting my father will bring.

My father and I haven't spoken since the day of the funeral.

When Louise is finally on the other side of the door, I take a look around, finally acknowledging the state of my room. My nose scrunches at the sight and smell.

I pick up pieces of undergarments that are strewn all over the floor on my way to the bathroom. All the while, my thoughts are occupied.

Even as I bundle the pieces on top of the overflowing laundry basket, and as I remove my week-old pyjamas before stepping into the shower.

What could he possibly want to talk about now?