Chapter 2 - Ashes Of Yesterday
871 Words
The morning after the party felt heavier than any hangover.
Spark woke to the sound of her phone buzzing on the nightstand. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, soft and forgiving—but her heart wasn’t. She reached for the phone, blinking at the message. It was Tyson.
Are you okay? I’m sorry if I crossed a line last night. Please call me.
Her chest tightened. She dropped the phone onto the bed as if it burned her.
She had cried herself to sleep. Even now, the memory of her outburst clawed at her. Tyson’s face when she shoved him away replayed in her mind: confusion, hurt, and something deeper—something that scared her, because it looked too much like love.
She couldn’t handle love. Not anymore.
The kettle whistled in the kitchen, dragging her out of her thoughts. Spark shuffled over, wrapping a scarf loosely around her shoulders. The smell of coffee filled the room as she poured herself a cup, staring at the swirling black liquid as though it might hold answers.
But all it gave her were memories.
Her parents’ laughter in the kitchen years ago. Her mother’s warm hands guiding hers as she learned to cook. Her father’s booming voice reading the newspaper aloud. And then—the phone call. The hospital. The accident.
A weight slammed against her chest. She gripped the counter, fighting back tears.
The world had never been the same after that day. Every step since felt like wading through water, each breath thick with the ache of what she had lost. Their faces haunted her dreams. In her waking hours, their absence was a scar stitched into her soul.
When she finally sat down with her coffee, she scrolled through her emails. No responses from the interviewers. Not even a rejection letter. The silence itself was an answer.
Her phone buzzed again—this time, a different number.
She hesitated before answering. “Hello?”
“Spark?” a woman’s voice asked. “It’s Mrs. Nwosu, from the alumni network. I heard you went for that interview yesterday. How did it go?”
Spark forced a smile into her voice. “It went fine. Still waiting to hear back.”
“That’s good, my dear. Don’t lose hope. These things take time.”
She thanked her politely, but once the call ended, the mask slipped. Hope felt like a luxury she couldn’t afford.
Later that afternoon, she decided to get out of the apartment. The walls were closing in, suffocating her with their silence. She walked through the streets aimlessly, past busy vendors, shouting conductors, the swirl of life moving on without her.
Everywhere she turned, she felt like an outsider. Stuck in the ashes of yesterday while everyone else had found a way forward.
She stopped at a small park, sinking onto a bench. Children chased each other across the grass, their laughter bright and unbroken. Spark watched them with a hollow smile.
Her thoughts drifted again to her parents. To the unanswered questions surrounding the accident. She had spent years piecing together fragments, searching for any lead. Who was the driver? Why had they never been held accountable? Every time she got close to answers, the trail went cold.
Sometimes she wondered if the universe itself conspired to keep the truth hidden.
“Spark?”
Her head jerked up. Tyson stood a few feet away, hands in his pockets, face cautious.
She tensed. “What are you doing here?”
“I was looking for you,” he admitted. “You didn’t answer my texts. I got worried.”
She turned away, staring at the children again. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
His voice was soft, but the words struck something in her. She hated being seen. Hated when someone peeled back her armor.
Tyson sat beside her, not too close, giving her space. For a moment, they both watched the children. The silence between them was thick—but not entirely unbearable.
Finally, Spark whispered, “I’m sorry about last night.”
Tyson shook his head. “Don’t be. I shouldn’t have pushed. I just… I hate seeing you hurt and pretending you’re not.”
Her throat tightened. “You don’t understand, Tyson. I’ve lost too much already. Letting people close—it feels like setting myself up to lose again.”
He looked at her, eyes steady. “I may not understand everything. But I know this: you don’t have to carry it all alone.”
His sincerity scared her more than his silence ever could.
As the evening deepened, Spark returned home, her thoughts heavy. She sat by her window, staring at the city lights flickering in the distance. Somewhere out there was the truth about her parents’ death. Somewhere out there, answers waited.
But the more she searched, the more it felt like chasing smoke.
And yet, deep inside, she knew she couldn’t let go. The past was ash, yes—but ash that still burned.
As she closed the curtains and curled up in bed, she whispered into the darkness, “I’ll find you. Whoever you are. I’ll find you.”
The vow settled into her bones, heavy and unyielding.
- Writer
