Return

By: K

She takes the key. An old door in front of her. A memory of a happy life. So long ago.

With trembling fingers she opens the lock. The sunlight brightens the place. Dust is everywhere.

An old armchair. She smiles. Grandfather…

The smell of the house is still the same. Musky and in the distance one could smell peppermint.

Years have passed by. So many things have changed. For better or for worse, she couldn’t tell.

The kitchen. An old woman smiles at her. Stirring the soup. ‘You staying for dinner dear?’ A soft, gentle voice. Her blond hair mixed with grey. Forming a long braid on her back. And the blue eyes twinkling as always. ‘Off course she is…’ The deep voice of an old man. A bright smile on his face. The grey hair neatly held together. Strong arms holding her close. She smiles and closes her eyes, leaning in to the touch.

When she looks again, she’s still standing in the room, alone

Outside the wind started to play with the fallen leaves. Little white snowflakes touching the ground.

Winter…

So many years ago they had a tradition: the day the first snow fell, they would come together that evening. They would celebrate. She didn’t exactly remember why, but she still knew the happiness, the safeness.

Walking over to a small closet, she opens it. Old pictures, a scarf, an unfinished knitted pull-over, books and off course the Winter-decoration. The smell of memories.

A bird in a tree starts to sing. Soft, gentle. It’s looking at the girl inside. It stays on the branch. As if it’s waiting. Waiting for some one yet to come. For some one to return.

She takes the scarf and wraps it around her neck. Like her grandmother would have done. One look in the mirror. Yes, it is true. She does resemble her granny. The same grace, the same smile, the same ice-blue eyes, the same blond hair.

The pull-over is the next to come out. Red mixed with black. This one was meant for her. Her favourite colours. Blood red and midnight black. Colours of Hell some say. But not for her. No, for her it are the colours of Love and Tranquillity. Grandma knew that. She never once objected. Her parents did. Her sister and brothers did, but not her grandparents. They accepted her for what she was. They always had. And she knew, even after everything that had happened, that they still did. They respected the choices she made. Even the hard once, even the wrong once…

The pictures… The wedding day. When granny married another man. Her grandfather. She never knew some-one else. She never knew granny’s first husband. Her mother had cursed her so many times because she called that man grandfather. But granny would smile and her eyes would twinkle. And that was one of the reasons that she disobeyed her parents and kept on calling him grandfather. Because it made grandmother happy. She often wondered if that wasn’t the most important thing. That granny was happy… Of course it was, but the other family members didn’t see it that way… She still doesn’t know why… After a while they simply forbid her to see her grandparents. Not that she listened… She loved them to much… Even if that meant breaking with all the family.

A smile graces her lips. She, granny and grandfather in the forest. It was a whole photo shoot. The three of them pick-nicking. Lying on the grass, in the sun. She and granddad swimming in the lake. She and granny making crowns of flowers. Smiling pictures. Every single one of them.

Actually she lived most of her life with her grandparents. The most beautiful time that she could remember. She hadn’t seen the rest of the family ever since. Even not on the funerals…

Pictures of the three of them in and around the house, in the zoo, in the rain… Yes, that’s a story on its own. Like most are… They were shopping. Birthday shopping. Always fun. And after that, when they were walking home, it started to rain. Not hard. Just some drops… Once they were at home, granny started to prepare dinner. She was a kitchen Princes. And then it really started to rain. It poured down. Obstructing your view. You could only see the drops fall, nothing more. She and granddad had gone out. Within a minute they were wet ‘till the bone, but they loved it. Their laughter filled the air, and soon she started to sing. Loud and clear, and grandfather followed.

With much care she takes out the Winter-decoration. Once her parents, her sister and her two brothers had joined the celebration. But when granny remarried, they never came anymore. They stopped caring… Granny had suffered under it. She had lost her daughter, her two grandsons and her granddaughter… All she had left was the man she loved and her youngest granddaughter. Yes, she loved some one again. She had grieved long enough for her first husband. He hadn’t died. Oh no, he had left her for a younger woman. A year before she was born. Granny had been alone ‘till her grand-daughter was eight. Nine years alone, and finally she found love again. And then her family dared to say that that was not allowed. It wasn’t granny’s fault that that bastard left her…

Her eyes took in the empty closed before her. No, not empty. In a corner hidden behind the pictures and the decoration, was a small box. With trembling fingers she took it out and opened it. Inside where the wedding rings. Pure, simple rings, with nothing on it. Just their names on the inside… It had meant a new start for both of them.

She looks at the pictures once more. How they had shined when they were finally married. They were so happy.

Carefully she put everything back in its place and closed the closet door. And turned away. It was the only thing that remained of their life. Why was it still here? She knew that the family had taken everything with them. At least everything they could use. The things that reminded them of granddad and the happy life of granny, were burnt. So how come these things were still here?

She turns around again. Nothing there. Just a dark corner. No closet, no pictures, nothing.

She lowers her head. Is she going mad? Was she imagining things?

No… She knew she wasn’t. And suddenly she saw it. On the ground, there were the closet stood, was something strange. She couldn’t see what it was. Sitting down before the strange place, her eyes widened. The print of two rings together. Black with a red glow.

With a smile on her face she stood up again. The house had kept the memory of three happy people.

Sitting in the armchair, she closes her eyes, feeling so much sadness. How clearly does she remember when they died. At night. Together. Lying in each other arms. Smiling. After that she took care of everything. Everything. Alone, ‘cause she knew she didn’t have to ask the family. She wouldn’t ask the family. They had abandoned them, and still the three of them had survived everything on their own. She wasn’t going to give them the pleasure to think that they were right. She wasn’t going back. She did send them a letter to tell them that her grand-parents had died, but she never received an answer.

The funeral was beautiful. There were not many people, but those who were there loved her grandparents very much.

Silent tears are rolling down her face. How she misses them still. Her eyes open slowly.

When her father was dying, her brothers send words for her to come home. They didn’t ask her to, no, they ordered her to. Off course she didn’t go. Neither did she go to his funeral. Or to her mother’s two years later. And she lost all contact with her brothers once again.

The house had been empty ever since they died. Nobody had bought it. And she couldn’t live in it. Her work made her travel from city to city, from country to country. She had seen whole the world. Like her grandfather had before her married granny. He was a sea-man.

And now, after an eternity, after 49 years, she had finally come home. But not for long. She knows. She knows that she wouldn’t even have time to clean the house. She had seen all the memories again. She had lived once again some moments with them. And she knows that soon, she would have to go. But she wasn’t scared, nor sad to leave the house again. Because she knew that home, really home, was in her heart, was with the people she loved the most.

She closes her eyes. She knows it now: it’s time to go.

It was like floating through the air. Black sky. It felt so comfortable.

She opened her eyes again when a sunray touched her face.

The house was once again like she had always known it to be. Her granny in the kitchen, granddad reading a book, and she sitting on the couch, listening to the music and enjoying the peace and happiness. Looking at the trees outside. Yes, she was finally back home.

Outside the bird flew away. They had returned to each other. There was no point in staying any longer.

And the next day, some one would see the open door, would find the girl’s, no the woman’s body. The people of the village didn’t know her, until, at last, a man would say that she is the granddaughter of the former inhabitants. They would burry her next to her grandparents. The man would come to visit and lay blood red roses on the graves. He would weep. He’d cry for the grandparents and the little sister he once had.

And on a branch nearby the graves, a bird would start to sing. The song of a new start.

The End