Chapter 1: Prologue- The Note
"...we therefore commit her body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, looking for that blessed hope when the Lord Himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God, and the dead in Christ shall rise first."
Never once had I ever attended a funeral, before, and yet, in the past week I had managed to attend two. How did that even make sense? You go through life blissfully with no worries and life comes to humble you in a brutal manner. The only trauma I had ever experienced in my life was my aunt Cara doing a cough fart on my bed when she came over for Christmas. These things don't happen around here, least of all to me.
Her coffin began to lower itself before each of her family members poured dirt on it. There wasn't much of them. Just her grandmother, aunt and little brother. Her mother wasn't able to roll herself to the coffin, so she asked her sister to do it for her. I didn't cry, just yet, because I felt as if I wasn't allowed to. I wasn't going to be hypocrite like the rest of them. We were the reason she was down there... all of us.
I heard sniffles beside me and turned to face a red nosed, Amirah holding a Kleenex close to her face. I bet she felt guilty; as she should. My throat started to clog up, as the coffin lowered itself out of sight. She's in there. Dead and alone. What's happening to her right now? What was she seeing? I had the same picture of her in my mind. A time we went to Brighton for a school trip and went ToyVoyaging. That was the last time I saw her happy... genuine happiness. I could tell because she let her gum show when smiled, she didn't like doing that because she was insecure with how dark they were. I wish I told her how beautiful she was. I know we gassed each other up here and there, but I should've told her more. Because she was and she had a lot of people telling her she wasn't.
I don't like this. I don't like not talking but you're not allowed to speak during a funeral. It's finishing soon anyway. I just wanted to go home. Some of her things were still at mine. I wanted to get to them before I had to give it away to her family. "Kiyara, do you wanna go home or do you want to go to the wake, afterwards?" My mother had asked. Finally, we can speak.
"I wanna go home, please." As soon as I had uttered those words, Amirah shot a look up at me and sent glares through my soul. "How could you go home at a time like this? We were her best friends, we should stay with her for a while. Please don't leave me, Kiyara. I need you." Her eyes started to soften as she had reached out her hand towards me. For the first time in my life, I stared down at Amirah and said nothing, before I began to walk ahead of my mother. My mother didn't question it, although I could tell she was shocked. "I just can't be here."
"It's okay, you don't have to explain yourself to me." As I got in the passenger seat, I stared out the window and watched the boys in our school hang around a nearby tree. They hung their heads as they kicked the grass below them. One of the boys had caught my stare and held it. I wondered what was going on past that messy black hair. This week couldn't have been easy for him. I wouldn't be surprised if we wounded up attending his funeral next.
"Do you wanna stop by the KFC drive-thru, honey?" My mother asked, politely as we neared closer to our home. "Or shall we just have the leftovers from two days ago? Or I can cook you a-."
"I don't get it, mum. I know her, she wouldn't do this. She's not the type." I blurted out, ignoring her question.
"Baby, no one is the type until they are. It's okay to be confused this time."
"Please, don't play shrink. It doesn't suit you."
"Well, what do you want me to say, Kiyara?"
"How about we start with what you're thinking." My mother took a deep breath and kept her eyes on the road, before she opened her mouth once more. "Well, I'm a bit shaken up and I feel extremely guilty because she spent her last days staying with us and I just want to know what drove her, to do what she did, while she was staying under my roof. I can't understand how I didn't see the signs." I turned to my mother to watch tears streaming down her chin and tiny drops land on her top lip. I figured she would feel the same guilt as me. How were we even suppose to go back home whilst carrying that weight around?
"Did you see her mum?" I asked, causing my mum to nod. "I know I shouldn't say this but, I wish we were attending her funeral instead."
"Me too." My mother said, to my surprise, as her eyes were still glued on the road.
"I honestly don't know what to think or feel right now, I don't think it's hit me. I'm never gonna see her again. Mum, I'm never gonna see her again. Eight years I've known that girl and now I'm never gonna see her again. I should've known something was up. The way she was suddenly acting up and would snap at everything, the way she went missing that time for like two weeks and just showed up out of the blue and she looked so different and all that time she spent with that girl that no one knew. I didn't see her in the funeral."
"You talking about the red headed girl?" My body cut through the air as I turned and nodded. "The one that was dressed really classy and elegant?" I nodded again. "The one that had an umbrella open and it wasn't even raining?"
"Mum, get to the point!" I said, desperately, snapping at her.
"Oh, yeah, she was there. All the way in the back, behind the boys."
"What- I- mum, why didn't you tell me?" I asked, stuttering in disbelief. How did I not see her?
"Was I suppose to?" She asked, as we neared towards our driveway.
"Yes, she the whole reason we attended that funeral, I know it."
"Kiyara-."
"No, mum seriously. She completely changed after meeting that girl. I saw a different and more nastier side to my best friend that I hadn't seen in the eight years that I had known her. And, now she's gone and that girl had the audacity to show up at her funeral."
"What would you have done if I told you?"
"I would've-."
"You would've... what?" I stayed silent because she was right. I wouldn't have done anything. Causing a scene at a funeral? I'm not in some movie to be getting away with that shit. As my mother parked the car, I took a long look at the house in front of me. Am I actually about to walk in this house, right now?
My mother dropped the keys at the stand, as I closed the door behind us. "I feel dirty." She said taking off her coat and hanging it on the stand. "Why don't you pack her things up before her family gets here. They're gonna come straight after the wake." Nodding I headed up stairs and opened my room. The first thing my eyes had landed on was her black duffle bag she came with. I don't think I want to go through her things, in all honesty. I think I just want process this whole week because it really came out of nowhere. I still don't get why she did it. I mean I get she was changing but I know her, deep down something doesn't-
A rustling came from underneath me, as I leaned in my pillow. Getting up, I moved my pillow away to find a yellow envelope that had my name on it. It's from her.
I can't believe I hadn't thought of a note. Of course, she wrote a note. Any chance to write something. Picking up the envelope I noticed how heavy it was. I think this was the only time I was glad to read her hefty writing. I wish I had appreciated it more.
Running downstairs, I found my mother on the couch talking on the phone. "Yeah, we just got home. Oh- she came downstairs-."
"Mum, get off the phone."
"It's your dad." She said taking the phone off her ear and gesturing toward me.
"I'll speak to him later, this is urgent."
"What?"
"Look." I said, holding up the letter to watch eyes turn wide.
"Okay, bye." She hastily said, hanging up. "Is it from her?"
"No, it's from Madeline McCann."
"Just, open it."
"I don't want to, that's why I came down here. You open it." I felt buzz on butt and picked up my phone from my back pocket to find Amirah calling me. I let it ring and pushed the envelope towards my mum. "It has your name on it, I can't read it."
"And, when has that ever stopped you? Hello? My diary."
"Yeah, your diary in year four and I'm sorry for reading about how you had cabbage for lunch. Top secret, CIA, confidential information."
"Mum, please open it." Taking the envelope from me, with defeat, she teared it up. "Be a bit more respectful." She shot a glare up at me, causing me to put my hands up in defence. Taking the letters out she examined them. "I think these are poems. She still writes- wrote poems?" Snatching the paper from my mum, I searched inside the envelope to see if there was anything else. "That's all she left me? Poems?"
"Well, there are loads of pages here, there must be a note in here somewhere. Wait, this poem is in red." She said holding up the paper.
"Okay, what's that suppose to mean?" I shrugged, causing my mother to do the same.
"I don't know, it must mean something."
"This isn't CSI, mother."
"Well, you're the one that came down here all dramatic only to give some poems."
"I thought it was a note. I thought she was gonna explain everything. I thought it was a goodbye." My mother placed the poems on the couch and got up to rest her arm around my shoulder. "Maybe there is a goodbye in one of these. She probably knew how confused you would be and is showing you a side to her that you didn't see, so you could make sense of everything."
"She could walk me step by step through what she did and I still wouldn't understand it." I had said in a low-toned voice.
"I know, baby. But, at least now you have a piece of her soul that no one else has access to and you keep it for the rest of your life."
Staying up that night, I spent the time going through her poems. Her aunt came in the afternoon to take her duffleI bag and some of those that she had left in the wash. My phone was switched off besides me since Amirah kept blowing it up. The only thing I had on my mind was being closer to her. It was weird, reading these poems. It didn't seem like her. Normally when people read something from their loved ones, they feel their presence around them. Like they're still around. But reading these gave me an eerie feeling of hollow and emptiness. These weren't her words but it was definitely her handwriting. I mean, I knew she wrote poems and I had read about 2 or 3 but none of them were this deep.
"Hey, can I come in?" My mother said, knocking and popping her head through the door.
"Of course." She propped herself besides me, on my bed, as she started to pick up the papers next to her. "So, how's the search for clues going?"
"Eight years of friendship, mum. Eight years I watched her grow up with me and I didn't know her. Not to sound dramatic, but this seems like a stranger. Sure, it's her handwriting but the words... it doesn't sound like her." None of this made sense. The things she was talking about. One poem was a conversation between a flower and the sunset. Like, what is that suppose to mean? They were all so random. Maybe, they had a context I didn't know about.
"I didn't know she was such a romantic." My mother had said, holding a poem in her hand, that read 'The tale of the sky and the ground'. "How come you didn't tell me she had a man?"
"She was never in a relationship. She would've told me." I said shaking my head in disbelief. But then, I thought to myself. Would she have told me? "Well, she definitely had it bad." My mother had stated, still reading the poem.
"I read that poem, it's about the sky and the ground and, like, pollution and shit. It's, like, about climate change and how humans have corrupted the world. I think, when she's talking about the sky she's referring to, like, God." I said, trying my hardest to decipher her words. "There's no way that poem is about love. Where did you get her being in love from?"
"It's definitely about love. Here, let me read it again. 'Carelessly, we walk around, not caring about the tale of the sky and the ground. They were created together you see-."
"Oh, then it must not be God since it was created and-."
"Don't interrupt me." My mother snapped, before she continued reading. "'Carelessly, they walk around, not caring about the tale of the sky and the ground. They were created together, you see, in bliss and harmony. The birds, who were their friends, would pass down messages, without the use of a pen. The sky and the ground would often meet with a crowd that she sent from the clouds. But, things had changed through time, with the birth of mankind. With their inventions that kept the ground bound, and with their pollution, they covered the stars that once comforted the ground. The sky often cries in pain, but their destruction still remains. How silly they were to go down this path. Oh, son of Adam, aren't you scared of the Sky's wrath'. Not only is this about love but, I think it's a threat."
I continued to go through the poems to see if any stood out and I find the poem with the red ink once more. Reading it, I gasped in disbelief, as I shot up from my position. "No way!"
"What? You scared me." My mother breathed, holding her hand on her chest.
"Mum, this is the song we wrote when we were eleven, during our trip, when you and aunt Camilla took us to Marrakech." I informed her, as she looked at the page I was holding.
"I told you the red poem meant something."
"But, you don't understand it doesn't make sense. We attached this to the toy that we were voyaging. Oh, I'm in idiot." I exclaimed, looking at it again. " She re-wrote it. How did she remember it?"
"Aw, read it."
"Oh, God, prepare to cringe. 'Goodbye toy, I'll miss you, but you must go and sail into the deep blue. Sail on, taking our secret with you, for someone else to grab and cling on to. You'll see things we can't even fathom. You'll go on adventures that we can only imagine. You'll swim with fishes and go to countries that are in our wishes. Oh, how jealous we are of you. Say hi, for us, to the people of Timbuktu. I hope this isn't goodbye and we meet again. But, for now it is. So long, my friend'." Before I knew it, I began to cry and I couldn't stop. My mother, sat up from her comfortable position and held me tight as I cried and cried. "We were so free and innocent. I remember, we quickly finished this so we could go back to our room and watch the new Wizards of Waverly Place episode. Mum, she was my best friend. She was my sister. How could I abandon her when she needed me the most? How could I side with her enemies?" I continued to cry, as I remembered how fun that trip was. No worries. No responsibilities. No deaths. My heart yearned for those days, as it started to pang in my chest. The guilt in gut felt like it was going to rip me open. "I think this is my note. She wrote it again for me. This is her goodbye."
I held it to my chest and cried even more. "Why don't you put it somewhere safe. You know how you misplace things sometimes. You won't forgive yourself if you lose this."
"I'll put it in my treasure chest." I said, getting up and wiping my tears.
"Oh yeah, I forgot about your treasure chest draw. You still keep things in there?"
"It's just easier to keep things in there just incase, so I don't lose it." Opening my cupboard, I unlocked my drawer with the key that was in between my clothes. Opening it, I folded up the poem and was about to put it in until I saw a note with my name on it. "Mum, a note." My mother got up from my bed and sat on her knees next to me. "This one is a bit heavy too."
"If it's another set of poems, I am going to scream." Tearing it up, I unfolded the letter and began to read out loud.
Kiyara! Oh my God, I can't believe your dumb ass actually found this. I thank your mother because I know she probably found this and not you. You're probably so confused but I'm here to explain everything. Sorry for leaving without saying goodbye. I'm sorry if my hand writing is messy, I only have a couple of hours left and I have to write this you. Do not show anyone this letter, except aunt Phaedra. First of all, Kiyara stop feeling guilty. You had every right to be mad at me, I was acting up and you weren't having it. As you shouldn't. I love you so much and know that if I was angry with you I wouldn't be writing this letter to you right now. I had to slip this in your treasure cupboard or box thingy because I couldn't risk anyone else finding this. Oh gosh, I've confused you even more. I waffle so much. Anyway, you deserve to know the truth about everything and you will...
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