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Stone Cold (Part 3)

Wednesday, 3rd February. The funeral was scheduled. All robed in black, a small-scale peaceful burial took place. Inquisitive and curious questions flowed into one ear and escaped from the other as Jules stared from a fair distance into the open, watching the wooden encasings lower down six feet below her dusty boots.

How do you even try to comprehend the situation and make sense of it when everything you have to live for is no longer breathing?

And from that day onwards, Julie turned into a heartless entity. Fearing no consequence for the worst of the worst already happened, dreading no risk taken for the greatest guilt had embedded itself into her. She let go of her cocoon and transformed into a ferocious butterfly. No longer empathetic, no longer a stranger’s shoulder to cry on as her own only two consolers left her alone. She retained this attitude through university. Not showing a single sign of any emotion hidden deep within. With walls high up and a guard of harsh words, Jules managed to complete her Bachelors and finally apply for the job her father always wanted for her – any respectable position at the counselling firm he visited monthly for his anger management issues. The CV might have been impressive, as she was a literary student, but her hopes were below her knees considering the struggling journey through university’s last two years.

The mailbox isn’t empty Tuesday morning, for once. An envelope. ‘Rebuild and Restructure, Counselling Firm’. With hands shaking, and fingers frozen cold, she held the letter like it was gold and made her way back to the wooden flooring and pristine furniture in the house. Positioning herself carefully on the stool alongside the isle in the kitchen, she opened the folded paper and started reading hesitantly.

A tear fell. From her lip, it fell on the paper. Imprinting liquid circles on the black ink and blue stamp, resulting in a minute discoloration. She felt again. She felt happy again. Gradually trudging towards the mantelpiece with picture frames of her family, she picked one up of her 18th birthday- when she got gifted the silver bracelet from Pandora she always wanted, hugged the picture with herself in the middle smiling wider than she ever did, and mumbled “I made it dad” as another stream stretched its arms to the frame.



About The Author

Eeman Adeel

like the lightning you see- alluring, dangerous and free⚡️