The World Turned Gray
1127 Words
Everything happened in an instant. But I knew it wasn't. It didn't happen immediately. It was a series of slow and advancing tragedies. We let it happen. We let go. We let loose. There was no one else to blame but us.
"It's not your fault," they said.
"Everything happens for a reason," they said.
"You'll get over it," they said.
A mixture of guilt and shame had been circling inside me. For quite a while, I couldn't bear to look at Trion. Not after everything. He was alone. He wanted to live his life without the burden of being an heir — of having the responsibility. He wanted to be free, but because of our carelessness, he couldn't do that anymore.
"Why didn't you?" Trion kept asking.
"What made you think that everything was going to be fine?" he pestered.
"He could've still..." even though he didn't finish his sentence, I knew what he was going to say.
"Wake up, ma'am."
Klea fluttered her eyes open. A gentle voice had woken me up from my nightmare. I could feel my entire back being damp as she moved to sit up.
"Sorry, how long was I out?" she stood up, wobbling as she felt a bit light-headed.
Sheela caught Klea before she could fall. Gripped Sheela's arm, holding on for her dear life.
"Not too long, ma'am. But if you had woken up later, you would've been late." relieved, Klea sighed.
"Alright. I'll get ready. Can you please prepare the car?"
"I'll bring your food to the car as well. Please do eat them on the way." a hint of smile appeared on Klea's face and she nodded her head in agreement.
It has been 5 years since Klea's husband died. 5 years of loneliness, and she can't even bring herself to love another.
"I finally get to see Trion again... Hope he doesn't hate me anymore."
Klea got dressed for the occasion. Even though her husband died 5 years ago, she was not allowed to be left alone. Jaden arranged everything so that when he's gone, Klea still had a job and is still taken care of. He left quite the money, so much so that Klea didn't have to work anymore, but what was she supposed to do? She didn't want to die of boredom or loneliness.
"Car's ready, ma'am."
"Alright, coming."
Stepping into the car, she realized something. What was she supposed to say to Trion?
How have you been?
Trion, do you remember me?
Do you still hate me?
She couldn't even imagine how formal he was going to be. How professional he'd look. Contrary to what he was like before their last meeting.
"Are you nervous, ma'am?" Sheela asked out loud.
She have noticed that Klea's eyes were fixed outside, focused and unmoving, drifting away in her quiet thoughts.
"I guess. I don't really know how to handle this meeting. For all I know, he must be hating on me with every fiber in his body."
Sheela prepared Klea's breakfast and the coffee before putting it on the mini-table at the center of the seats. She grabbed the fork and played with her unappealing food. She didn't have much of an appetite. Guilt was still in her brain.
"No point in overthinking it now, ma'am. As much as he lost a brother, you also lost your husband."
Klea's eyes darted at Sheela, but she wasn't looking at her. She was looking ahead, as if she was the one that was driving. Unending stare with the path in front of her.
"I'll keep that in mind, Sheela. Thanks."
"No worries, ma'am."
It was a silent 30-minute ride. 30 minutes of anxiety. When the car stopped and Sheela was about to open the door for Klea, someone towered over her, shadowing my very spot. Bulky, professional, lean, handsome and with an unapproachable aura surrounding his entirety.
"I'll get it," an unfamiliar hoarse voice rang in Klea's ear.
"Yes, sir."
The door opened, revealing a handsome young man, wearing all black clothing and having multiple piercings. Klea was shocked. Standing before her was Trion, but with a different ambiance. He looked rather different from what Klea imagined, yet somehow her checklist of how to tell if someone's successful was fully on the spot.
"Scoot over," he ordered.
"What?" he scrunched up his eyebrows and bent down so he could peek his head inside the car.
"I said, scoot over." his voice was demanding, enough to make Klea raise her eyebrows.
But nonetheless, she swallowed her pride and moved.
"Wow, so you do listen," he remarked before sitting where Klea sat.
He adjusted the blinds of the car by reaching to the driver's seat and turning the handle for the adjustment. Once he was done, he sat back down and folded his arms.
He was built. He trained well in the gym. He wasn't the same teenager Klea had met 5 years ago. He was different. He oozed a different kind of aura, and she wasn't sure if she should be scared for her life or be happy for him.
"What do you want?" Klea asked, not wanting to prolong this suffocating moment.
"Where have you been?" she opened her mouth, unsure of what he was implying.
"What?"
Klea adjusted her dress so that it wouldn't wrinkle from sitting too long. Sheela had especially ironed it thoroughly the entire night. It had lots of creases, so making it look perfect took quite a bit of her evening time.
His mom wouldn't want to see an imperfect lady.
"Are you deaf or what? I asked where you've been all this time."
"I'm not sure if I follow. I was just here. What do you mean?"
He turned his head so fast that Klea was afraid it was going to cackle. His dark hair was a little long, but not too long. It was enough that it covered most of his neck. His eyes were fierce, and he had a slit on his left eyebrow.
"You disappeared for 5 years, did you not?"
Klea was still puzzled, unsure of what he was trying to say.
Was he okay in the head? Klea couldn't help but ask herself.
He was the one who left abroad to study. Was I not making any sense?
"No? I've been with the same company, your company, for 5 years. Worked for 5 years. I didn't even leave the city once after the funeral."
He let out a low exhale before leaving the car, leaving Klea behind with questions.
That wasn't what she had in mind for their first conversation. But she guessed it was better than being hated.
"I haven't even stepped foot out of the car and my head is already hurting."
- Writer
