November 2015

It was a rainy afternoon. A large man was rushing to gather his things—hurriedly moving about the house. Meanwhile, another figure stood with her eyes shut tightly—her mouth moving silently as if chanting something. Her finger traced patterns in the air as she tried to remember every detail of his trip—when suddenly, her eyes flew open in a moment of eureka.

"I think that's about it!" she declared with determination, snatching the car keys off the table and hurrying over to her husband who was dressed in a suit.

In one smooth motion, she spun him around and adjusted his tie. The man quickly kissed her, a soft moan escaping his lips, "Love you, Mrs. Winters. I'll be back soon, okay?"

"Love you, Mr. Winters. Don't forget to call when you get there, alright?"

The man nodded and knelt in front of a girl, planting a kiss on her forehead. "I'll call every night okay, Emily?" he paused, waiting for his daughter's nod. When she finally nodded sadly, he let out a slight chuckle before scooping her up in his arms to carry her outside. His wife followed, carrying his suitcase.

As they approached the car, John set his daughter down and kissed her temple before loading his suitcase into the passenger seat. After a round of goodbyes, he got into the car—but as he started to drive away, the girl burst into tears, clutching Janet's waist tightly.

"Aww, baby Emily~ It's okay, it's only for a week,"

"Janet!"

When a voice came from behind them. Janet turned to see a woman waving with a little boy standing awkwardly beside her, holding a box. They walked over, meeting in the middle.

Hugging her crying daughter around the waist, Janet greeted them, "Vi! Hi, little Tyty! You know how she is—always crying when her daddy leaves."

"In that case..." Violet began—before nudging little Tyler, urging him forward. Reluctantly, Tyler placed the big box on the ground.

Curious and tearful, you opened the box.. to find a tiny black bulldog puppy with the softest fur—a fluffy bundle that immediately wriggled into your lap. The puppy looked up at her with big, trusting eyes—and Janet's heart ached at the sight, knowing how much this little creature could mean to her daughter.

"This one resembles Mr. Winters the most—"

"Tyler. Cavill!"

Nonchalantly the little boy wondered what he did wrong with round eyes, as he asked, "What?" followed by his mom's palm on her forehead.

Chuckling, Janet guessed the mastermind without even hesitating, clarifying, "Let me think—Greg?"

"You know how he is." Violet rolled her eyes, looking weary from handling two boys as an everyday job—but she smiled warmly at Emily as she giggled, "We thought he might cheer you up when John's away."

"Thank you auntie Violet—uncle Greg—thank you Tyty!" you beam.

Janet looked at Violet, her eyes glistening with gratitude. "Thank you, Vi. You have no idea what this means. Say thank you to him too for me?" The moms voice trailing off as they continue their grown up conversations. As for the little humans..

Little you stared at the tiny bulldog with awe—before you glanced at Tyler, as if asking for permission to pet the puppy. Tyler immediately led the way and petted the puppy—even when the puppy jokingly bit his hand weakly. Urging you to follow suit, you gently stroked the puppy's fur—and you couldn't help but grin, contagiously making him mirrored you.

"What are you gonna call him? In fact–it's his birthday today!" little Cavill said, trying to cheer you up even more.

"Really?" you asked, voice still quivering despite the sudden excitement. Emptying your sniffles, you thought hard as you stared at the folded skin of the tiny puppy. Little you hugged the puppy tightly—joy filling your chest as you found the perfect cute name.

"I'll call him Tumba," you declared, the weird name bringing a small giggle to your lips, thinking how perfectly fitting the name was to this weird-looking little puppy.

However, a look of disagreement painted on Tyler's face as he jeers, "The heck? What kind of name is that?"

Immediately snapping your head to him, you retorted, "Who are you to judge?!"

"Well I bought the guy," Tyler said, a smirk on his face.

"No? Uncle Greg did, not you."

Tyler rolled his eyes. "He asked me to come pick a puppy to your liking—specifically made sure that it has to resemble your dad—but anyway. He asked me. So technically, I bought him."

"Smart ass—"

"Want me to take him back?"

"No!"

You clutched the box tighter, looking down at the pup—smiling as you stroked him. Tyler rolled his eyes but couldn't help letting out a lopsided smile. "We all know how much of a crybaby you are when it comes to your dad leaving you," Tyler teased and you pouted—glancing at him before looking back at the puppy with a smile. Tyler's teasing softened at the scene, and he continued, "Well.. since I can't always be with you—"

Your eyes widened as you automatically looked at him, making Tyler awkwardly add, "I mean—so—if I play baseball with the others and you feel lonely—I mean—" cringing at his own words, he looked away. Hiding your amusement, you looked down—kept playing with the puppy, when he added softly, "I just—I hope the little guy can make you happy when I'm—" he paused again, realizing he was stumbling over his words, "your dad isn't around!"

For a slight moment of awkwardness—at least for Tyler—you stay silent. But then you pull little Tumba in for a hug before leaning in to kiss a stunned Tyler on the cheek. With wide eyes, Tyler stared at you, his cheeks flushing pink as you gave him a big grin, cheering a "Thank you, Tyty!"

Tyler reached out to ruffle your hair, and you scrunched up your nose—batting his hand away. Tyler's face softened into a warm smile as he asked, "Better?"

You nodded enthusiastically, "Much better!" as Tyler's expression turned mischievous. Mirroring him, you could already tell. Until with a playful glint in his eyes, he teased,

"Now.. sugarcane?"

The cemetery feels familiar. It's a family cemetery, after all—where generations of our ancestors are buried. So.. yeah. Despite the dark.. uncomfortable atmosphere, we're pretty used to this place. Difference is..

Now we're here for dad.

If you ask how I'm doing, that's a pretty shitty question. You know how I'm doing. Good I haven't gone crazy by now. But, strangely, I feel.. a little bit.. numb?

Actually, everyone's pretty worried about me. I don't get where the letter of caution is coming from but—they're now making a fuss about how I haven't cried since we lost him by the damn operating door. They all say, 'Emily, it's okay to let it all out.' Well, I don't want to cry, goddammit. Why push me? What kind of weirdo forces someone to cry?

Poor mom's been busy handling people who have come to pay their respects—why, same goes to me though. I've been beside her all the time. Greg is occupied with the burial arrangements.. Violet.. probably does the same. I don't know, man I lost track of everyone's whereabouts. I don't even know where the hell Tyler is.

But everybody's here. Eve's been behind me, probably making sure I won't pass out. Liam's with the gang, and Dominic—he's there, keeping a good amount of distance. Even Lucy Burns is here—definitely for Tyler.

However.. somehow.. why do I feel like there's something.. left behind? I can't quite comprehend what.. but it's just—somehow.. it's something that I can't seem to function without—

"Maam, I think it's time."

As you think about what's missing, a religious leader approaches your mom. All of a sudden, your mom becomes rigid—but it passes as she nods and urges you to follow. Since morning, she's been incredibly strong. Bustling around.. taking care of everything. She could even manage a slight smile—something you haven't been able to do. Everyone stands and gathers in a circle to witness the process.

Like my dad's some kind of show.

You watch your dad on the side of the grave hole. The ceremony has started, you watch your dad lowered into the hole—when you feel a hand grip your hand tightly. You snap to check on her—finding your mom already has her hand over her mouth. Her face turns red, struggling to hold it together—

And she explodes.

Janet collapses into a chair, sobbing. For the first time today, your heart feels like it's gripped—so hard like the way she gripped your arm. Just like when you heard the news—

With trembling hands, you hold your mom's hand, trying to comfort her—joined by others around you—you can't even tell who they are—that's when the sound of soil being thrown into the grave reaches your ears. Your head snaps to the source—to your dad—as the earth begins to cover him. That's when you realize..

This is the final goodbye.

Once the soil covers your dad completely, you'll never see him again. You'll never be able to touch him again. This is the last time, and soon.. he will be nothing but a memory.

And that's when it hits you.

Like a switch flipping in your head, you go panic. You look around frantically, searching for something—anything to hold on to—but there's nothing.

People start approaching you—probably with good intentions to comfort you, but it only makes you feel more suffocated. Each thud of the earth echoes in your ears, matching the way your heart feels—drowning in sorrow, just like how your dad gradually loses the surface as he's being buried by the ground.

You can't breathe. You can't see.

All you can do is take a shaky breath, hoping it will be fine—except that it doesn't—

When you hear a faint sound echoing from somewhere. It grows closer.. and closer.. Gradually, your vision clears as you look up through the crowd hovering around you—until you notice two familiar shapes running towards you.

That's when a sharp bark rings in your ears, and just then—Tyler appears, panting in his suit like he's just sprinted from a thousand miles. He crouches on the ground, immediately checks on you. His right hand cupping your cheek while the other on your arm, seemingly asking—making sure of something—but you can't hear it. However, the crowd around you starts to thin out, revealing the other figure—

Beside him, Tumba—your black pitbull, whimpers as he approaches you slowly.

"I ran as fast as I could—" Tyler pants, face full of concern. He glances at the grave and sighs, "But I guess I'm late," voice filled with sadness as Tumba whimpers again—looking at the grave. Tyler turns back to you, saying, "We forgot to bring Tumba amidst—everything—so I went back to get him," he pets Tumba, adding, "he's the closest resemblance to him so I thought you'd—"

And you cry.

You collapse into Tumba, sobbing uncontrollably as you put your arms around him, finally having something—someone to hold on to. Tyler sits on the ground beside you, his eyebrows knitted as he tries to hold back his own tears. However, seeing you in such despair, he breaks down too—as Tumba whimpers, sharing your sorrow.

You wail your father's nickname over and over again, your body going limp as you lean heavily against Tumba. You feel Tyler's trembling hand stroking your head gently. You cry until you can't anymore, eventually falling silent—just resting against Tumba.

Opening your eyes, your gaze meets Tyler's sad eyes. With a faint sound, barely moving your lips, you whisper a "Thank you," and wrap your arms around him, holding him tightly as Tumba nestles between you both.

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Cecylia Costania @rcpcswrites

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The song that matches this Chapter's vibe:

https://youtu.be/cdG-VkY9XmA