Before I open the door, I stop to a halt with my face inches away from the wooden door. I look back to the dark empty hallway like I’m expecting someone to be there. But the house itself seems still asleep, along with the people in it.
Even though around this time, my father would take a few days off work, I see him even less often than when he does work. Sometimes I would have to knock on his door several times in a day just to remind him to eat.
I’d come back from school and softly open the door to Gran’s room to find her sound asleep, the curtains drawn, even though it would be the sunniest and brightest day of the week. She is the light in my life, yet still becomes a shadow whenever this time of year would come round: Where everybody is reminded of Aiden. Where everything I see is
