Before We Said GoodBye

Short Fiction By Kaitlyn

The patter of a melting popsicle sliced through the mourning stillness of the cemetery as seventeen-year-old Nova Parker stood in front of her mother’s grave. It had been six months since Cynthia Parker passed away from stage 4 breast cancer, and it’s a death that weighed as heavy as frost on Nova’s heart — leaving the beating muscle exhausted.

It was Valentine’s day when it happened. The snow was exploding from the velvet black sky as if it were pent up divine rage. Nova was lying in Cynthia’s hospital bed, her arms wrapped around her mother’s fragile body as she drew in her final breaths of air. This is it, Nova thought to herself. No more dancing in the kitchen to ABBA, no more Sunday morning pancakes, no more mother-daughter beach days or shopping sprees, no more hugs, no more laughs, no more comfort.

As she held onto her mother tighter, hot tears started to swim down her face, and something tore inside of her, something harrowing. She let out a strangled cry, her voice inflamed with pain as she struggled to catch her breath. Every desperate gulp of air burned her lungs like she was breathing in fire. And when the nurses tried to take her out of the room, they had to sedate her.

But she didn’t care. She was just glad to be unconscious.

Nova thought the worst part was over. What could be worse than death? Surely nothing. But she was wrong. Every day she would have to wake up and pretend to be a part of the other functioning members of society. To pretend to be happy. She hated it. All she wanted to do was wrap her covers tightly around her frame, and hope the warmth of her own being didn’t escape.

She couldn’t stand the pitying looks her teachers and classmates gave her, and the gratuitous coping advice her counselor tried to push on her. She felt isolated, alone, like all eyes were on her as if she were a sad circus act you couldn’t help but feel bad for. She tried to reassure everyone she was okay, but nobody believed her. Not even Nova herself. The grief just sat and festered in the subconscious part of her mind, rotting her sanity away.

Sometimes she thought it would be better if she were dead.

As Nova stared at Cynthia’s grave, she heard the sound of distant footsteps squelch into the damp ground. It had rained the day before, the sky shedding its tears so it could welcome the sun. If only it were that easy; crying the pain away. Instead, it just sits inside of you like a cemented brick.

She bit a chunk out of her popsicle as she listened to the footsteps treading closer. She didn’t need to turn around to see who it was. She already knew.

She let out a weighted sigh. “What part of I want to be alone do people not understand?”

“The alone part,” a voice said. “Because you shouldn’t be alone.”

She drifted a hasty glance at the person standing beside her. It was her best friend, Asher. He was the ordinary, slender type with eyes that could cut through glass, and a soul as bright as the stars on a cloudless night.

He was her compass. She would be lost without him.

“Well, I want to be alone right now.”

He let out a soft laugh; it was light, melodious, and it tugged on a piece of Nova’s heartstrings. “You know I’m not going to let that happen. This is the first time you’ve been here since the funeral, and I need to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” she said curtly.

He pursed his lips and nodded. “Then we can just stand here in silence.”

And that’s exactly what they did. Five long minutes of overbearing silence. But even for Nova, it was still all too loud. The choir of voices screaming in her head wouldn’t stop. She wanted them to stop.

“It’s not fair,” she whispered.

“I know,” Asher said.

Another long, grueling minute of silence. Nova felt herself becoming unsteady, her head on a rollercoaster of misery.

“Do you ever think about her?” she asked.

Asher frowned. “All the time. She was more of a mother to me than my own.”

“I can’t stop thinking about her. There are times I forget that she’s really gone.” Nova felt her eyes become hot; like she was staring right into the sun. “Sometimes I’ll pull into the driveway and see her car there and think oh, mom’s home, but when I get into the house, instead of her being there, there’s only silence. That silence I hate so much.”

A tear curled down Asher’s face. He flicked it away with a finger.

“I’m starting to forget the sound of her voice, the way she laughed, her eyes, her smile. She’s fading away from me, Ash, I feel so disconnected from her. And no matter how hard I try to remember, I can’t — ” A cry clotted Nova’s throat, her voice growing soft. “It’s like she never existed.”

Asher stood there, letting out a breath in a cadence that was almost a sob. For the first time in the ten years of their friendship, he didn’t know what to say because he knew there wasn’t anything he could do to make it all stop hurting.

“Maybe this would all be easier if I just pretended. Pretended like she never existed.”

“Don’t say that,” Asher said.

Nova stared at her dripping popsicle. “Then what would you do?”

There was a long, drawn-out pause from him as he let her words sink in. Finally, he said, “I would allow myself to grieve, to let my emotions out instead of sealing them away; to not let myself be scared to ask for help and recognize that time won’t heal this wound, but instead, make it easier to accept the loss.”

She looked up at Asher through bleary eyes. “What if I can’t accept it?”

“You’ll get there. You just have to trust yourself.” He pulled her into his arms, his hand stroking her hair. “You’re not going to go through this alone.”

Nova collapsed into him and sobbed, her grief-soaked tears drenching his shirt. She felt another piece of herself tear away, drifting like a leaf lost in the wind. This was the type of pain life didn’t prepare you for.

“I’m here, I’ll always be here. No matter what,” Asher cooed, a cry coaxing his voice.

“Promise?” she cried.

“I promise.”

They stayed like that, still, for a few silent beats. Nova never wanted to let go. The warmth of his body pressed against hers, and the way his hand smoothed down her spine comforted her in a way she didn’t know she desperately craved. Desperately needed. It was moments like these she would hold onto forever.

“Can I ask you something?” Asher asked.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you eating a popsicle here?”

Nova pulled away, smiling through her tears, and said, “Because this was the last thing she ate before we said goodbye.”

Based on a true story