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HomeDara
Dara squirmed a little on the hard pew, trying to shift into a more comfortable position. She restlessly scanned the sea of unfamiliar faces that surrounded her, attempting to find her mummy. All around, strangers were dressed in monochrome that reminded her vaguely of zebras and penguins. Heavy silence shrouded the cavernous place, only interrupted by the periodic droning of the man standing beside a long wooden box on the stage.
She did not understand what was going on. She did not know why she was forced to dress up in her uncomfortable collared black dress. She did not know why she was here, sitting on this uncomfortable polished bench beside Aunty Eun-hye. She could not comprehend the magnitude of the situation. Instead, she wondered when this would be finally over, when she could return home to see her mummy.
Eun-hye
The priest stepped down from the platform he was standing on. People began filtering out of the church and into the sunlit streets, a great contrast to the gloom in the church. I should be doing the same, but my mind wandered, too preoccupied by the onslaught of bitter-sweet memories to focus on the task of commanding my feet to march me out of the heavy double doors. In truth, I didn’t want to leave just yet. Stepping out of this comforting dimness would mean accepting reality, a reality that will scream mercilessly at me, just like the glaring rays of sunlight. The mundane routines, the monotony of life, will soon drown out these memories, forcing me to move on; to move on while she is left behind, separated by the distinct divide between life and death.
I will be forced to face up to the harsh truth – that my best friend has permanently walked out of my life.
I felt something warm touch my arm. Swivelling around, I realised that it was only Dara, her small hand resting lightly on my forearm. The five-year-old girl stared at me with her innocent brown eyes shining, willing me to say something. Plastering a smile on my stiff face, I stood up, offering Dara my hand. “Shall we leave now?”
Dara
Pushing herself off the edge of the pew, she skipped over to grab Aunty Eun-hye’s outstretched hand, a childish grin lighting up her features. She was going home. She was sure of it. She knew Aunty Eun-hye was going to fetch her home to see her mummy in less than an hour.
It wasn’t that she hated that one week stay with her grandparents. Living in their two-storey house, having a large comfortable bed to herself, being able to play in their well-tended garden – there was nothing she could even bring herself to complain about. But somehow, despite everything, she still missed the cramped cosiness of her two-room apartment that she shared with her mummy. Maybe it had something to do with the familiar scent of home. Maybe it had something to do with the reassurance she found in the tight space. Maybe it had something to do with the love that she could feel, radiating from all around – the love that only her mummy could give.
Aunty Eun-hye led her to the car, opened the door at the back and lifted her into her car seat. As Aunty Eun-hye strapped her up, Dara could not resist the urge to lean forward and hug her. Surprised, Aunty Eun-hye hesitated a moment before leaning over to embrace the little girl.
Eun-hye
I hugged her, burying my face in her smooth black hair. Dara nestled her face in my neck, sighing contentedly. I felt her lips pull into a smile as I ran my fingers lightly through her hair, an action I often did to calm myself down and to comfort her.
As I pulled away from her to get into the driver’s seat, I caught a glimpse of her cheerful expression. I wondered when I would see that smile of hers again. Her mum had made me promise not to spill it to Dara until she is slightly older. But I thought she should know. Yet I had no idea how or when I should break the news to her.
The truth was, I was scared. As much as I believed that she had the right to know, explaining it all to a five-year-old could shatter her.
Because she was too young to comprehend it all.
Because she didn’t understand.
Because she held fast to the belief that the day will come, the day her mummy will come and take her home.
Climbing into the car, I started the engine with a heavy heart as I pondered how I would break the news to Dara. I bit my lip at the very thought of her crying, stepping on the accelerator to take us home.
Dara
Dara followed Aunty Eun-hye away from the car and up the steps onto a porch. She frowned. This was not her house, she was sure of it, but it did look very familiar. Aunty Eun-hye unlocked the door and entered the hallway with Dara trotting along behind her.
Glancing around, Dara spotted a photograph on the mantelpiece in the hallway. It was a picture of her mummy and Aunty Eun-hye sitting on the sofa, with Dara in between them. Recognition flashed across Dara’s eyes. This was Aunty Eun-hye’s house.
Eun-hye
It was getting late. Lifting Dara’s luggage out of my car, I carried it into my house, calling out Dara’s name as I stepped into the dim hallway. She came skipping over, stopping a few steps in front of me. “Yes, Aunty Eun-hye?”
Silly little girl she is. I reached down to ruffle her hair. She is too young to understand what I had to say to her soon. When was soon? I do not know. Because each time I see that innocent bright smile on Dara’s face, each time I hear the lively chirp of her voice, each time I feel the calming warmth that engulfs me when she hugs me, I give up and push the thought of telling her aside.
Because I cannot bear to see her shed tears – tears from a five-year-old girl that should never fall.
Dara
Aunty Eun-hye showed Dara her room and told her that she would be spending the night there. Dara’s heart sank. She would not be going home yet. It was going to be another long night of waiting, a wait that would only make her desire to go home stronger.
Aunty Eun-hye helped her into her pyjamas before tucking her into a large comfortable bed. She snuggled under the duvet, struggling to keep her heavy lids open. She could not sleep just yet, not when she had one extremely important question to ask. Battling against the tempting darkness of sleep, she opened .
“Auntie Eun-hye?” She mumbled softly, “When am I going home to see my mummy?”
Eun-hye
There, she had asked the question that I will inevitably have to answer. I swallowed hard, attempting to soothe my suddenly dry throat. How was I to explain it to her?
My best friend had left me responsible for Dara, she had trusted me with her only child. When I protested, she had calmly told me, “Just treat her as if she is your own daughter. If she ever asks you why when she is older, you can explain it all to her.”
I was at a loss for words as I stared down at the little girl who was struggling to stay awake, refusing to succumb to the lure of sleep as she waited for my answer.
Home is here, I wanted to scream out. This is your home, this is your room, and you will be staying with me from now on.
Dara
Aunty Eun-hye did not answer her. She waited patiently but there was still nothing. Half surrendering to the battle against sleep, Dara shut her eyes but her mind was still fully alert.
She had not finished telling Aunty Eun-hye what she had to say.
Eun-hye
She was mumbling something, still unwilling to give in entirely to sleep. I leaned in to catch her nearly inaudible words. As I listened, I in a sharp breath, resisting the urge to cry.
“Mummy said she was going to heaven to be with God and the angels. When will she come to take me home?”
Thank you to all those who have taken time out to read my story. I was really inspired by the book "my best friend's girl" which was why I sat down to write this. I hope you have enjoyed reading my story.
Please do leave a comment when you're done because it will really mean a lot to me. :)
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