Chapter one~ GRIEF

"You really need to stop acting that way! All of you! I think it's enough of that already, it's been what? 7 months? I'm getting really frustrated here and you're NOT helping! Whether together or separate I end up empty handed with nothing~ NO progress whatsoever! I really think you should stop coming here if you're not going to help me help you!"

Those were my therapist's words~ well, our therapist!

Yes, it's been 7 months since it all happened and yes we should at least start moving on, but we simply couldn't.

I could hear his words, understand them, but it felt like he was talking to someone else. I felt disconnected or may be separated from the whole process. I knew he was talking to me -to us- but it just didn't feel that way.

He was right! I knew that deep down. So did Chester and Michael. But none of us recovered from what we've been through may be because it was too much or because we're just weak. Either way we were not the same~ not anymore!

After that wonderful "pep talk" speech that our therapist gave, there was nothing else to do but leave. And so we did. There was this awkward silence in the elevator. But it was not that awkward, after 7 months of this; you start getting used to it. Losing her, affected us all, every inch of us, every aspect of our life, simply everything. May be because she was the heart of the gang~ our gang, or may be because she was a difficult person to forget, we're not able to move on.

"It was nobody's fault" that was what I kept telling myself all the way to the ground floor where the door of the elevator finally opened ending that phase of " awkward" silence.. The fact that we never really found her~ her body or had a proper funeral made it even harder for us to admit that she's gone... gone forever.

Our car was right in front of the building. Dirty and dusty, Chester never even tried to clean it in 7 months; although it seemed like his favorite thing ever, but that was long ago~ 7 months ago to be exact. Mike didn't call for the driver seat like he used to. But I think that habit faded like a lot of others. I guess habits do tend to fade after 7 months absence. I headed for the back seat even though I had the keys, I just couldn't drive, with all the tears in my eyes, I could even see my way to the car. I gave the keys to Chester who passed them to Mike. None of us could look to the other in the eye. We just looked at different directions any direction but the one that leads eventually to a miserable pair of eyes.

Mike drove off. And the only sound I could hear was the noise of the engine. Each of us just stared out the window. I couldn't help myself but let my tears drop. I was thankful that neither Chester nor Mike could see me like this. I've played tough for so long and now wasn't the time to see through that mask I wore for so long. After a while of just staring without actually seeing what s outside, I eventually started paying attention and noticed where we were. And honestly I had no idea. I asked Mike but he didn't answer me. I asked again and again but still no answer. I tried to see his face in the rear view mirror and I did see it

I knew why he wasn't answering. He also didn't want me to see through his mask. He was crying. Not many times have I seen Mike like this. I guess he knew that if he spoke his voice wouldn't come out or may be it would come out but it would give him away anyways. I tried to see how Chester was doing, but he wasn't doing any better than me and Mike. He was better at hiding his tears though. His head fell between his arms placed on his thighs. It was a position that only Chester could pull off, since he's the skinniest of us.

"Answering your question; I've no idea where we are right now!" Mike said that after a while, breaking the silence.

"Oh!" And that was all I could come up with at the time.

"Get us home then!"
Chester was the one who said that after he finally raised his head.

We shared the same car, the same place, the same everything. It's hard to believe that 4 people could be that close, but it's true. Now only 3 of us left standing. May be standing is not the right word for what we were~ what we are. May be "broken" is a better word for it.

Ever since she left, strange things started happening to us. Unfortunate events as I may call them. But it couldn't have been possibly as unfortunate as the main event, so none of us really wondered or even thought of it.

We reached home, finally. It took us long enough, Mike apparently wondered way too far from where we were actually going~ home.

The car stopped and we all got out. With the same awkward silence and stumbling steps we reached the third floor where our apartments are. Mike and Chester were roommates and so were Aiko and I.

It was not her name really. Mike was the one who gave her that name and it kind of became her name after that. It's Japanese for "beloved one." It was quite expected from him to give her a Japanese name, since he's half Japanese. Besides, for some reason she hated her name. It sounded perfect for all of us except her. No matter how many times we say that we loved her name, she wouldn't believe us, may be we only loved it because it was hers. All the arguments we had about this seems so silly now. It doesn't matter if it's Aitana or Aiko, what really matters now is that they belonged to the same great person. Although it's understandable why she loved the name Aiko so much, after all it was the love of her life who gave it to her.

It's hard to say which of them loved the other the most. Both Mike and Aiko were truly in love with each other. It was like a fairytale, the kind that you can only see in movies. But now seeing Mike like this, I know now that I've underestimated how much he loved her. It feels like he's not complete, not anymore. It's like he lost a part of him, a part of his soul. But after all, we all did. We all lost something back then, something essential~ something that we can't do without.

I entered my apartment and headed to her room and not mine. I've been basically living there for about 7 months!

May be number 7 is not as lucky as some people might think it is.

I lied on her bed staring at the ceiling. It was beautiful and full of all this art work that she did with Mike. He was a painter~ a professional and a very talented one. He was helping her, teaching her to be like him. There were a lot of colors, a lot of drawings, and there were things hanging from it. I wasn't much of an artist really and I didn't know what they were doing half the time, but eventually whatever it is that they were doing turns out great and it didn't need an art expert to appreciate it.

I started thinking going back with my memory to the good old days, the time when everything seemed easy and everyone was happy. Certain memories came to mind