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He didn’t wish to die. More like he was too young to die. He was merely 17 but it was an inevitable fate that he chose to have. A sad morbid reality that he had yet to come to terms with.
Maybe he still hadn’t come to terms with it yet. Maybe he was still remaining in denial. After all, how could he accept this inevitable fate—a morbid reality wherein his life was akin to a flickering flame that could be snuffed away any moment.
His heart couldn’t come to grips with it. His mind teetered on the edge of reality and dreams. Maybe he was still dreaming—a nightmare that he desperately wished to be woken up from. But every time he heard the clock tick in the background, he was torn back from his world of dream to reality altogether.
Perhaps his life was a walking nightmare, an evenfall of sorts which had no end. After all an end could never have an end. All that surrounded him was a never-ending end and he knew that’s what his eyes would ever see before he breathed his last.
Maybe it all started when he had discovered the horrific truth about the orphanage. His heart had dropped. His insides had churned. Maybe he had forgot how to breathe or maybe he had willed himself to not to breathe. That was the irony of his existence. He was breathing for the sake of breathing alone and soon he would stop breathing just like that fateful night—the very night when the reality that surrounded him had shattered.
His eyes grew misty. He questioned the world around him. He questioned the very reality that had once surrounded him—a warm loving home with the touch and comfort of his siblings and Mama.
Mama…
Was her love a lie too? He didn’t know. He no longer had an idea. Maybe her love too was a veil for the cruel truth that surrounded him—a sweet lie it was to mask the bitter truth. Maybe that indeed was her mercy. He had played the game of cat and mouse with her in the hopes of finding a better world, a new hope—a hope which he didn’t believe he could live to see.
Because he knew his time was limited. He would no longer see the morning sun after tonight. It was his last day at the orphanage as he went through the contents of the letter.
He was impeccably dressed. Fine suit and trousers with a bowler hat. He looked like a fine young man, a pretty catch for an orphan like him. He would have expected hand me downs instead of such perfectly tailored suit. It fit him perfectly. What a ruse it was—a fucking ruse it was. A food was clothed this impeccably. A sham they carried on till his end and he continued to dance to their tunes.
He had vowed to see the dawn of a new morning with his family but it seems that that too would be an impossibility. He chuckled to himself. A bitter chuckle it was as his fingers traced over the smooth surface of the letter.
Right on cue the door to his room opened. He saw a familiar red bobbing followed by a limping gait. Norman’s heart soared as much as it sunk. His feelings were an equal mess. Can one feel such confluence of emotions all at once? He himself no longer had any idea. Maybe he was soon losing his grip over the reality.
A tempestuous heart he had.
His eyes grew misty but he had to hold back his tears. He had to smile his brightest smile which was tinged with tears. His grip over his letter quivered. He had no idea how many times he had rewrote it and how many times he had struck out one simple line.
I love you, Emma.
He had been in a dilemma. His heart was torn at seams never to be stitched back again. He was broken and torn. He wanted to let her know of the depths of his heart but could he? What would be the point? Or maybe it was a selfish desire of his that simmered deep within him.
Maybe deep down he still dared to hope that he would see the morning sun and a new a day where he would see her smile again beyond the gates. Maybe he still dreamt of a possibility where he held her hand as he showed her the Giraffes. Maybe he dared being selfish enough to dream of a world where he was with Ray and Emma.
Maybe he still hoped to confess his feelings to her when he came of age. At least that’s what his plans once were when he turned 18.
They were just fleeting dreams just like his fleeting tears. They had dried so many times leaving behind nothing but remnants of tear stains even though his sleeves were no longer dry. He carefully hid his tears as much as he hid away his damp sleeves away from her prying sea green eyes.
Emma was sharp. Her doe like eyes saw through everything even though they were brimming with tears. Although he wondered if his eyes were any different because he too could see his wintery eyes being reflected in her misty ones. And perhaps his eyes were no less sad even though they didn’t shed any tears.
He now rummaged through his pockets before carefully handing her over the letter. Maybe he had been too lost or maybe he hadn’t been paying attention. It was Emma’s presence alone that made him slip and commit the silliest of mistakes. He was a genius but it was in her presence alone that he became a genius in name alone. Maybe deep down he was a fool, an idealistic fool who couldn’t keep his promise to Emma.
Because he had ended up handing over a letter which he had meant to keep a secret. A token of memory and a piece of broken heart he had meant to carry with himself till he stepped past the gates. A letter which carried words of his unspoken feelings which he had meant to keep veiled for all this time, for all these years.
His eyes didn’t look at anything particular. He merely memorised the contours of her features. Her soft plump lips. Her doe like eyes. Her silken red tresses. Why was he even doing that? He knew all that awaited him was darkness. A touch of death that would leave him all cold and numb. Was it his last desperate attempt at gaining a piece of warmth which he could carry with himself as he braved through his fate? An ill fate?
Maybe.
But what he didn’t expect was to see her features contort into one of shock, surprise even. It seemed like words had escaped her as the tears that she had held back for all this time now rolled down her cheeks. The letter now soon slipped past her fingers to find its way on the floor.
Norman was confused. He didn’t understand her reaction. His letter was meant to be an instruction of sorts. Nothing too out of ordinary which could elicit such a strong reaction from her. Emma was a smart girl. She already had a basic idea of his plans. Was she shocked upon finding out the truth about Ray?
Norman continued to wonder. It would make sense though since Emma loved Ray and it would shatter her from within upon finding out something too painful. But then again she wasn’t that oblivious to not notice the signs that he obviously did. Or maybe she was always the oblivious one.
At least when it came to noticing his heart.
It was then his gaze flickered to the floor. And it was in that moment alone color drained from his features. He was stuck, frozen and numb. His gaze remained downcast. All he could see the many black letters that he had once struck out over and over. It was a struggle with himself, a futile struggle. He wanted to convey the depths of his heart to her for one last time but at the same time he wanted to hold onto the hope that he would meet her again soon.
Somewhere.
Someday.
Before he finally confessed his feelings to her.
He knew he was a fool but he wished to remain an idiotic fool just like how Ray used to call Emma.
Because he loved Emma and the letter on the floor conveyed so no matter how many times he had struck out those words.
Only silence encompassed the world around them followed by the ticking clock. Maybe Norman could hear the rush of his pulse, the ringing of his heart next to his ears. He had imagined in many ways to confess his feelings to the girl before him.
Maybe it would have been on a winter night during Christmas as they eyed the first snow of the year while sharing the warmth under blankets. Maybe it would have been next to the brook during a summer evening as cicadas chirped in the background. Or maybe it would have been in the midst of rain as they held hands while reading stories to each other on the porch.
It could have been anything. But never had he dared to imagine something like this. This is what life was. It was full of unexpected surprise. Just like the faint glow of fireflies that drifted through the summer skies. The lives of those drifting fireflies were like bursting colors just like how fleeting his own life was. It reminded him of the warmth he had once shared with Emma as he had held hands with her in an attempt to catch a firefly on that particular summer night.
Yet now all that encompassed them was a lingering suffocating silence before drop of tears stained the lacquered floor. Was it his tears? Or was it someone else’s?
It was then Norman dared to meet her eyes and they surely stared straight through him. Her eyes reflected nothing but him and perhaps he too was shedding those many unshed tears that he had kept hidden for all this time. After all he had to be the strong one, the genius, the mastermind behind their escape. The weight of many souls rested on his fragile shoulder but none ever noticed that how much they had drooped from this weight alone.
“N-Norman I-I-!”
“No…Emma…no….”
His voice broke. He wasn’t ready to hear her answer. In fact, he never wanted to hear one. All he could do was wrap her in his arms as he wiped away her countless tears. They never stopped no matter how hard he tried to wipe them away. Her lips trembled. Her eyes shook. And all she did was whisper his name in a trembling broken voice while clutching onto his shirt.
“Emma…no….”
And that’s all he could whisper back as he kept her in his arms while she buried her face in his chest. Words had died between them. Only the scent of tears remained as Norman too buried his face in her hair. He had never meant for this to happen. He never wanted to make her guilty. Maybe that was the primary reason as to why he hadn’t confessed.
Because he knew that Emma would never recover. She just couldn’t.
That’s how kind Emma was. Kind to a fault. The very Emma he was always in love with and would continue to love so.
Her voice croaked. She crumpled his shirt in her quivering fists as he held her tighter. Her leg was still healing but Norman knew her better as he carefully cupped her cheek to make her look him in the eye.
“No…”
He barely whispered that word as he shook his head. At this point tears stuck to his long lashes as he barely contained them. All he could do was smile his saddest smile while rubbing his thumb over her ruddying cheek.
“Don’t you dare hurt yourself, Emma.”
“But Norman….if I hurt myself then Mama…”
“No Emma….you have to focus on future.”
“A future without you…?”
“Yes. You have to. No, you must.”
“But it’s unfair. It’s so unfair. Don’t you think it’s unfair?”
Unfair?
Emma was asking him the most obvious question. Of course, he found his fate unfair. He found this world that surrounded him as brutally unfair. He even cursed at his cowardice for being unable to confess his feelings to her and for giving her these many tears as he bid his final farewell. Maybe he even found it unfair that he couldn’t even steal one last kiss from her even while she was trembling and crying in his arms.
He was merely a 17 year old with many dreams before his eyes. So yes he found the world unfair but he wasn’t willing to be honest about that with Emma as he once again futilely wiped away her tears that had no end. Maybe her tears truly wouldn’t have any end.
Yet all he could do was smile his broken smile as he whispered her name.
“Norman, why?”
“Why?”
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
Again a smile was Emma’s only answer. But maybe even she knew why he couldn’t be honest about his feelings as all she could do was cry. Her gaze was downcast as her mind raced through any possible solution in this brief moment they had with each other. The clock was ticking by mercilessly and in a few moments Mama would step into the room to take him away.
But no, she couldn’t have that. She just couldn’t. She had to do something, anything, as long as she could make Norman smile. She wanted to see a genuine smile on his face instead of that fragile mask of a smile that obscured the many tears he hid. Because even she didn’t fail to notice his damp sleeves that he was so desperately trying to hide.
It was then she felt him slipping the actual letter in her pocket which she couldn’t care less about. The clock was ticking by. She could even hear the impending footfalls which may belong to Mama. She had to do something, anything!
A token of love? Gratitude?
She wanted to give Norman something in turn who was so quickly slipping away from her fingers. She had no words to give. She neither had any promises to give. Because all her words will be empty. A painful truth that crushed her from within. She didn’t want to let go. She never could. If she crushed her leg then would that increase his chances of survival? But no, Norman explicitly told her not to.
Emma wanted to cry. She wanted to wail.
“Norman?”
It was in that moment she heard Mama’s voice and that’s when her body moved on its own.
In the next moment she had grabbed him by his collar. For the briefest of moments, she saw his eyes widening before her lips met his. It was brief. A small chaste kiss. But she held the kiss even as Norman failed to realise what had happened.
He didn’t even realise when the brief kiss had ended even as Emma stared at him with lidded eyes. A moment passed by them. A painful heartbeat that resonated through them. None could speak a word before a small chuckle broke the silence, a bitter chuckle.
That night Emma was adamant on hurting herself to give Norman the chance of survival. She didn’t mind losing a leg or two as long as she could save him. But seeing him smile through those fleeting tears of his gave her a different kind of resolve as she once again crushed her lips against his.
But this time Norman was more prepared as he pulled her closer while cupping the back of her head to pull her in for a more clumsy and breathless kiss. Their teeth clinked. Their lips crashed and fell. They were breathless since they didn’t know how to breathe between their kisses. But by the time they drew away their lips were barely touching by a thin thread of saliva.
Their cheeks had gained colour as Norman carefully rested his forehead against hers. A small smile crept up their lips, a more genuine smile. Both didn’t know if it was just a moment of impulse or if Emma genuinely felt something for Norman in turn. The lines blurred but neither of them cared as Norman flushed her body against his.
“You truly are unfair Emma…”
He cried through those words. His first proper tears in a while and it was Emma’s turn to wipe them away.
“I know…”
Was her answer as the roles had once again reversed. For just one lone moment they pretended that their fates weren’t getting drastically altered in a span of few fleeting moments. Since this moment was theirs and even Mama couldn’t snatch it away.
Unbeknownst to them Mama had been a silent witness to their brief passion as her back remained against the wall. Her soulful eyes gazed at nothing in particular. Maybe she carefully eyed the flickering lamp in a corner as a small rueful smile played on her dry chapped lips.
A small tear escaped the corner of her eye, a fleeting tear it was accompanied by many more fleeting tears. None could have guessed that even though her sleeves weren’t exactly dry as she turned her back on the kids to give them more privacy before it was the time. Maybe it was her final mercy on the children or maybe on herself.
Her retreating footfalls once again accompanied her along with her many more fleeting tears.