The clouds darkened, people in black scattered out of the funeral hall like ants. Their conversations were about food; they were ants. Black cloth flowed behind her as she kicked off from the wall she was resting on.  

None of these people really cared about her mother. They were just here for the sake of being present, common courtesy or ‘do-not-want-to-have-a-bad-impression’. She knew how these people worked, and they always worked in devious ways. The only people who did care for her mother were her grandparents; unfortunately, they died a few years ago.  

The old man was here, though. The person her mother divorced, the person not willing to give up his job for her. Her father.  

She continued walking, his eyes on her the entire time, watching her movement. The man knew nothing about looking after a kid, nonetheless a teenager. He was like a clueless bird that had been forced into her cage; her life.  

She was getting annoyed, very annoyed. He had never once wanted to take part in her 16 years of life, but why now? Was it just because he was told to do so by her mother? She was going to be 17 soon, and soon enough the next year would come and she would be 18. She would be able to look after herself. He would not need to take care of her. He would not need to worry. She would not need to feel obliged to make a connection. 

It felt like some hallucination when he appeared. 

The wind was strong that day, threatening to pour buckets of rain down at earth. The wind was angry, like something changed in the course of life that was not to its liking. She had her oversized tattered grey jacket wrapped around her body, and her scarf up to her nose. The 16 year old pushed through the wind towards the hospital to visit her mother.  

Every single day after school, she would pick up some food to bring over for the visit. It was something she made the point of doing; in order to have a reason to see her mother. Her mother would not stop worrying over her, and complain about how she was wasting her time on a sick patient; never about herself but her. That was probably the reason why she was in such a state. 

Then he appeared. 

After reaching the hospital, she had to finish up some paper work with the nurses before being allowed to see her mother. Her hand reached for her mother's door, fingers gripping the cold knob. Before she could turn the knob, the door swung open. A man about a head taller came face to face with her. Her heart slowed. At that moment, she knew, she just knew; where she had gotten her height from. Inconspicuously, she slipped passed the man to her mother. The man turned around, hearing the sick lady call out to the young girl, eyes on the girl who held out warm food to the weak woman; emotions of shock and confusion danced on his face. Her breathing became still.

Why were those emotions on his face? Did he not know about her? Questions swirled in her head. She felt weaker. She felt heavier.

Now here he was, at the funeral. Acting like he cared, and being ever so polite to everyone and.. He would not stop questioning whether she was alright.  

There was no way she was going to accept this. Her mind could not even wrap around the idea of having that old man involved in her life. Why would it now? For 16 long years, it had just been her mother and her. Now it was her and that old man.  

After the funeral was over, she would have to gather her things and move in with the old man. Why did she have to live with the old man; who had never bothered being part of her life?  

She wanted those thoughts out of her head. For once, she wanted to forget everything that was happening. Her footsteps started quickening. A walk became a jog, a jog became a run and a run broke into a sprint. Her fingers held the scrunched up fabric as she sprinted. No clue where she was heading, but she knew she wanted to get as far away as possible from him, from everything.  

Small drops of rain kissed her cheek. The clouds opened, and water gushed down to earth like missiles.  

Her neat bun opened, and her hair was hanging down her shoulders. She was completely drenched from head to toe, her dress absorbing the rain water making it harder for her to run. Finally her steps slowed, and a small smile crept onto her lips at the realization of where her feet had brought her to. It was their place. 

She took careful steps towards the area. Her heart warmed a little in comfort. 

 

"Umma..." Her mother pushed her finger onto her daughter's lips, "Shh.. You'll see." The 8-year-old girl sighed as she watched her excited mother grab her hand and drag her towards the park.  

Her fingers mindlessly brushing the marbled structures that surrounded them, as she watched her excited mother bounce about. At that instant, her mother seemed like a little child; with her hair tied into tight braids and her uniform loosely placed on her fragile body. It amused the little girl, but at the same time, it made the little girl really happy to see a smile on her mother’s face. After a small fraction of a minute, her mother was by her side again. "Sit. Sit." Her mother settled her onto the grass. “Look.”

The little girl’s eyes looked out and between the hedges. Music started to wondrously play from between the hedges, and a smile magically appeared on the girl’s lips; light, soft and sweet. She was entranced. The music was like hot chocolate swirling in the mouth, igniting all her senses; causing them to tingle in delight.

This was their special time; secretly listening to beautiful music being played for the high society, and all the time being hidden behind leaves and branches.

 

She needed her mother. She needed the woman who had always been there for her, and made her feel safe. She needed her more than ever now. The old man was in her life, and she needed help on knowing how to handle it. She needed her mother’s guidance. 

The little girl took out the stone from her black skirt pocket, her fingers smoothing over it continuously for comfort. 

Water droplets hanged around her and dropped mercilessly down to the ground. The day was going to end. The funeral was going to end. A new chapter of her life would begin. 

Throughout the days of her mother’s suffering and death, no tears had befallen those deep brown eyes, until now.