I walked – as calmly as I could manage -­- on the cold, hard pavement, angry thoughts swirling through my head. I had decided, even before I had arrived, that I hated this pathetic little town. I hated the people living here, with their perpetual happy faces. I hated the tiny shops on the streets-­- so different from the malls back home. I hated how everything felt so new and unfamiliar. And most of all, I hated how everything and everybody in this miserable, little town, never failed to remind me of the only thing that I wanted to forget-­-the reason why I was here.

I lost both my parents in a car crash a few weeks ago. The news came without a warning and knocked the wind out of me. I haven’t still recovered and I don’t think I ever will. The hole within me just seems to be growing with time. They say that things -good and bad- happen for a reason, but I guess I’ll never find out most of them.

My aunt and uncle were good people, honestly. I wish I could say that we got along – I really do -­ but the moment they greeted me with brochures of a group that would help me ‘deal’ with my emotions, I hit the roof. Right now, I was heading towards the group’s first meeting, after a long series of arguments and fights with them.

By the time I arrived, everyone was already seated in a circle. I dragged a chair and hid myself. A thin, bespectacled lady rose from a chair to address the group, and I noticed that it consisted of people of all ages. The thin lady then chose to begin with the introductions, and I chose that moment to add this group to the growing list of things I hated in this town.

It continued for weeks. I attended the meetings, drifted around town, and fought with my new ‘parents’ – while simultaneously hating everything -­ in an everlasting cycle. The void in my chest was starting to become unbearable and I missed my old life. I wanted to go back home. Only, it didn’t exist anymore.

All this changed one morning.

It happened at the group meeting. We were discussing the same old things that were supposed to make me feel better -­? but never did -­? when a lady I had never noticed before, began to speak. She looked eerily familiar, but before I could begin to make sense of things, she began:

“This is for my daughter. I know you are here, somewhere, I only hope that you’re listening very carefully:

Nothing lasts forever, not the earth, nor the sky, but our end came too soon,
Didn’t have time for a final goodbye.

You know not, but we see you everyday, Struggling. Loathing. Almost dead.
If there were a way, we would guide you,
But all we have is dread.

Move on, our child, Lock the memories away, don’t be stuck in the past,
You’ll listen to us, we pray.

Your entire life lies ahead of you, We hate to see you so down, love, This is not the end, we promise, We’ll meet again, far above.”

With tears streaming down my face, goose bumps on my skin and her voice still ringing in my head, I looked up at the lady. Our tear-­ brimmed eyes met, and she smiled at me. The same way my mother used to.

I blinked and she was gone.

I grabbed my belongings and headed out of the room. I felt realization dawning upon me and my muddled head clear up. It was as though, the grey, heavy clouds that had been hanging over my life were finally clearing up.

In a flash, I understood that I never hated this town, its people or the tiny shops on the streets. I, in actuality, hated how everything in this world could go on so perfectly when I was so lost, so alone. Now, I felt as though I wasn’t alone, my parents were watching over me, every moment of everyday, only, I couldn’t see them.

As I walked back towards home, I felt the first smile since months, stretch over my face. I wasn’t locking away my old life; I was simply storing it in a special place that I would revisit at the right time.

But right now, I was starting over.