Let Go

I didn't realize the peaceful silence in the room until after a few minutes of Ethan playing the ending note of the song. I opened my eyes and found him smiling at me. I smiled back a little as a small tear escaped me. His smile faltered a bit as he approached me slowly and wiped away the tear with his thumb.

"Thank you," I whispered. "That-that meant a lot to me."

I had never cried in front of anyone before. In mother's funeral, I'd just remained stony faced and then ran away like a mad child. I just hated the pitying and symapthetic looks I recieved from people; but more, I hated the fact that my beautiful mother who was now lying in a coffin slowly decomposing, would never ever wake up and sing her lullabies to me.

Her death was unexpected and a shock. I'd been only eight years old. Waking up, sobbing from another nightmare about monsters under the bed...and like usual, I'd headed to my mother's room, knowing she'd pull me under the cover with her and whisper those words to make me calm down again.

But when I got into the room, I kept shaking her to wake her up, but she never did.

Dad said that the way she'd died was peaceful...her soul, prying away from the body and floating away from us in a sleepy manner. I remember how he'd taken hold of my hand comfortingly when two years later after her death, and said he was taking me to an amusement park. But he'd lied.

It's been six dreadfully long years since I'd visited her. I didn't want to go back to the graveyard, I didn't want to think that she was dead even though I knew, deep inside, that she'd never come back to me.

I didn't understand why God wanted her to join him in heaven. Why did he take her away from us so soon?

I looked up into Ethan's blueish grey eyes as he towered over me. Then with a sigh, I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around his waist in a hug. I felt him hug me back too as I closed my eyes. I didn't know how long we stood in that position. But relunctantly, the silence was broken by another one of Ethan's questions.

"How long has it been since you visited your mother?"

I didn't say anything back at him and when he stepped back to look into my eyes, I averted my gaze away from his.

"Lynette...tell me."

"It's-it's been 6 years," I whispered, my voice hoarse.

The silence reigned the room once again.

"Lynette...this is probably the hardest thing for you to do...but, are you willing to hear me out?"

I nodded slowly.

"Let go."

The End

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