Eighty-three

Celia

I lay on the bed in a crumpled heap of limbs when I heard the softest whisper. It was the voice I would never forget.

“Celia”

It came again. I struggled to get up from the bed, to open my eyes that were sewn shut for I did not want to miss the chance of seeing that face again.

“Celia”

I forced my body using the little strength I had to open my eyes which were already moist. I don’t think I had stopped crying since I returned to my room and somehow fell asleep.

“Mom,” I whispered.

Grace Klaus, my mother and the most compassionate and fearless woman I had ever seen in my life, was looking at me.

She looked so young, so beautiful. Her big brown eyes were looking at me with concern, her long silky hair slipping out of the ponytail.

A kind and loving smile blossomed on her face as she raised a hand to cup my cheek.

“Get up sweetheart, it is morning”

She gently caressed me and I only snuggled further in her embrace, holding her hands between my small ones.

I was looking at