What greater thing is there for two human souls, than to feel that they are joined for life - to strengthen each other in all labor, to rest on each other in all sorrow, to minister to each other in all pain, to be one with each other in silent unspeakable memories at the moment of the last parting? - George Eliot.
"Derek, talk to me. What's wrong?"
Life was getting better. It really was. Med school has been amazing, Addison has been amazing. Your life is flourishing in more colours than one, in all the right places at all the right times. Sometimes you think God was apologising for the trauma he put you through.
But today marks the 16th year that has gone by without him. 16 years since his footsteps no longer imprinted the earth, 16 fulfilling years as the man of the house.
When you peered into the eyes of the redhead beside you, you saw nothing less than warmth and sincerity and for the first time in forever, you were tempted to relive the horrific incidents of the worst night in your life.
"Derek… you've been silent the entire morning, tell me what's wrong please.." She probed.
Addison knew about your father. The way he died? No, although you did suspect your sister did disclose bits and pieces. She was her favourite Shepherd sister after all.
She was the first person you've gone dangerously close to revealing the reasons behind your neurosurgeon aspirations, the first person that made you ever felt comfortable enough to disclose the truth. The first person you've loved wholeheartedly since he was gone.
"Today's uh,.."
Pause. Inhale.
"16 years ago my father was shot. "
"Uh, he was shot in the head. And I was there, and uh.. Amelia was there."
You feel a brim of tears threatening to spill, a familiar tradition that seems to resurface annually.
She didn't say anything, only reached out to soothe your trembling arms. The familiar warmth of seeping through the sleeves of your shirt.
"I was there and.. and those men.."
It was getting increasingly difficult to breathe, and your lungs seemed to burn while your throat tore with every syllabus.
"They wanted his watch. And my mum gave him that watch. And he didn't give it to them. And they got angry. And it was so loud Addie, I swear to god it was so loud. They were so fvking loud. And I had to hold onto Amy and she was there too and I knew she would scream. And-"
"Derek, Derek, DEREK," She called out forcefully, holding your palms within hers and squeezing them.
The emotions manifested themselves in the form of relentless tears, when she pulled you into her chest and allowed you to sob into her shoulder.
Your fingers clung onto her body and she kissed your hair gently, running her hands in up and down motions on your back.
You don't know how long the both of you stayed like that. But you vaguely remember her draping her hoodie, the Yale hoodie that she wore on days that didn't go well onto your disoriented form, and whispered that it's okay for you to sleep.
It's okay. She said,
It's okay.
And you believed her.
For the first time in years, you didn't want to be alone today.
The next time you awoke, you found yourself staring at a bouquet of white balloons right in front of the doorway.
She spoke nothing of your breakdown, chirpily handed you a permanent marker and thrusted the balloons into your face.
Write. She said,
16 balloons for 16 years.
Write everything you wanted to tell your father.
Each balloon was an update since the year he was gone.
You trusted her more than anything else in the world. And so you wrote.
Mum's struggles. Amelia's addiction. That one recital Kathleen went as the ladybug, and everyone there had fathers while you sat in the audience quietly with your mother and your sister.
You wrote about the curly haired boy who laid in bed every night for a whole year, convincing himself neurosurgery was the path for him. How the same boy spent all his birthday wishes until he was 20 wishing for his father to be at peace, and safe.
Going through hell to get to medical school. Getting into med school. Meeting the pretty redhead across the cadaver. Getting to know that redhead. Falling in love with that redhead.
Addison wrote beside you too, within the rare empty spaces available on the balloons while you scrawled furiously at the others.
Afterwards, she loaded the hoard white and inked balloons into the backseat and drove the both of you to this piece of land in the outskirts.
It was night time, and it was quiet.
The occasional shriek of a bird and the buzz of a beetle. Otherwise, it was tranquil.
She told you to release them, for him to read.
One by one, the balloons flew.
And as they floated and interrupted the clouds, you realised that you had no tears anymore.
The balloons looked like birds from afar. Beautiful, white birds. It's a miracle none of them popped until they disappeared into the sky.
Thunder roared and the rain soon poured.
Your father knew you had no tears left. And so he cried for you.
"You can cry all you want on this day Derek," Addison started,
"Cry and scream and yell. It'll be your safe day to feel. And i'll be your safe space forever."
The rain poured. And it drenched her hair.
She was so beautiful. Your Addison was so beautiful.
Underneath the sky amongst the moss and the grass, you chased and laughed until the both of you collapsed breathless underneath the rain.
The grass felt wet against your back as you lay with her in your arms.
Your father never got to the end of his story. But you promise him that you'll get to the end of yours, and Addison's together.
review? pretty please! if you have an idea on how you want these 5-shots to go, tell me! would love to hear them :)