Pandora's Box Spring 2021

Who Lives In My Memories S.H. September 2019 The aura around us felt tangible, like a heavy blanket that had settled over all of our shoulders, insistent and demanding. I followed my parent’s lead as we walked into the church. All of us wore black. I felt small compared to my surrounding family. The rows of wooden benches were empty, but invisible people were sitting there gazing upon us.

I felt their gaze upon my back making me feel self-conscious as we continued toward the inevitable truth. We were drawing near too fast, too fast, like my worry of forgetting him. I didn’t want to see it—I didn’t want to see him.

Still we advanced, drawing closer and closer. My breath seemed to stick in my throat, my heartbeat erratic, but I kept pace with my family. We finally reached the casket, made of cheap wood so that we wouldn’t have to spend too much, with Halbuzie laying there.

A stillness crept over everyone in the room, it rendered even my silent breathing too loud. My eyes seemed glued to what was in front of me, to the familiar face, and I tried to take in every detail, to comprehend what was in front of me.

My eyes swept over his body, so still, so lifeless now.

The grey pallor of his skin contrasted the dark blue of his suit.

His face was plain, missing his usual gold-rimmed glasses that he had a hard time seeing without. Something felt off, like the usual presence of him was not there. Uncomfortable in my own skin, I felt an itchy, prickling sensation of disbelief.

His expression was calm. It wasn’t until after that I realized the beauty of that moment. He was finally able to be at peace, and would never have to wake up from his everlasting dream.

I wanted to memorize the way he looked so I would never forget him.

I could feel the absence of someone I loved, and that 56