When she had to go to the hospital to be treated, time passed, and I went to visit her.
All her hair had been cut off, she looked paler, and she was thin.
My mother warned me not to go in, but I did it anyway. I wanted to see my grandmother. I just didn't know what she looked like.
As soon as I saw Grandma like that, I yelled at the nurses to get her out of there. I begged them to remove all the tubes stuck in her, to give her hair back, to give her back her body.
My mother started yelling at me in tears. She told me to stop talking such nonsense.
Loudly, she explained to me that she had decided to come in, and if I was upset about it, then I was a fool. If I had any complaints, I would have to tell my grandmother, and no one else.
That's when I started to see my mother in a bad light. No, that's when I started to see the truth. Before, I was just trying to let it go. Speaking to me like that, with that voice...
Grandma tried to calm me down. She called me, saying she was fine. I told her she couldn't be like this, that she should come home, but she said that was her house now.
I started yelling at her. I asked her why she didn't want to go home, why she wanted to stay there. She told me it was the best thing for her and that she couldn't change that. She said she wanted to be home with all of us.
She told me he was going to get better. She told me he was going to come home.
That was the first time she lied to me. And I could tell. She didn't sound convincing. That tone, calm and serene, confident and comforting, couldn't fool me. I hated that she lied to me, so I...
No, I don't want to remember-
"You told her she was an idiot, that she didn't love her family. You said you hated her, and you ran out of the hospital.
"Your sister followed you, trying to talk to you and calm you down, but you rejected her. You told her to leave you alone, that you never wanted to see Grandma again. You were like that for a whole month.
"Your anger didn't last long, but the resentment lingered. You barely spoke to your mother, and she, with her limited patience, yelled at you almost daily. There wasn't a day you didn't have a problem with her. It was as if the mother you knew had left."
"And then there was your poor father. He had to endure your mother's tantrums, even though he hadn't done anything. First, she'd yell at you, and then at your father. Amaya was the only one spared.
"That she should send you to a boarding school, or a monastery; That she should ground you forever. All your mother cared about was complaining about you. Then, anyone would think like you. 'She's more worried about yelling at me than about Grandma's health.'
"But it was also your fault. A kid shouldn't behave that bad, a kid shouldn't be that selfish. You were too full of yourself to even think of others. She was the only one who could help you.
"Everything changed when, another month later, your mother had to go grocery shopping. Strangely, she took longer than usual. Some time later, you found out what had happened.
"Your grandmother had died.
" You didn't want to leave your room for a whole week, and your mother stopped chasing you loudly. It was only because of her that you got out…"
Suddenly, I wasn't there anymore. I was remembering seeing that moment from five years ago.
Someone was knocking on my door. I was locked in my room, playing with my tablet, like I always did when I was little. If I wasn't on the tablet, I was playing with some toy.
I didn't answer, but the person knocking on the door decided to come in, even though I had told her a hundred times to leave me alone.
There are many things I've said to my father and sister that I regret, and for which I've already apologized, but it still makes me sick every time I think about it. It makes my stomach turn.
"Riku…" My sister said, leaving the door half open, and peeking through.
"Leave me in pea-" I replied with the angry and reluctant tone I had the whole time I was locked in my room.
"Please!" she pleaded, her voice clearly filled with sadness and fear.
I didn't answer her, but I let her stay.
It was the first time I'd heard her so hurt, with such a weak voice. Even though I was a child, I knew she was in trouble. It made me feel bad, too.
"…"
"I… Can I talk to you?"
"…Yes."
She wanted to help me. Even though she didn't know how, she wanted to get me out of there and have the little brother she'd always been with back.
I gave my back to her at the time. I didn't want to look at her. Not out of disgust or anger, but out of fear. I didn't want to see her face. I didn't want to know if she was mad at me for behaving like that. I didn't want her to hit me; I thought she was going to do something bad to me.
Sometimes when we played, we hit each other. Obviously, we didn't mean to hurt anyone. Occasionally, someone would go too far, but we'd soon make up for it and hit again. That wasn't the only thing we did, of course. We weren't that weird.
When Mom saw us like this, she'd get angry with both of us. On the other hand, our grandmother never stopped us when we were like this. She knew it was a game and that we were enjoying it. Sometimes she'd even take me by surprise and tickle me. She became very animated when she played with us, despite her age.
I didn't expect her to do what she did at the time.
She didn't say anything after I said yes. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the worst. I thought she was going to yell at me like mom, that she'll try to comfort me like dad, but...
"..."
" …Why?"
… She threw herself at my back, and, leaning on my back, she began to cry.
The door was closed, so our mother didn't come up to take her away from me.
She clutched my clothes tightly, crying uncontrollably. It was heartbreaking.
Hearing her cry was horrible. Her voice was so fragile, so broken. Such desperate sobs…
" I… I don't know…"
I started crying next to her.
I hadn't shed a tear since my parents told me what had happened.
I didn't want to, but at the same time, I couldn't. I kept trying to distract myself so I wouldn't think about it. But seeing my sister like that, I couldn't stop thinking about my grandmother.
When I thought about her, only one image came to my mind: The last time I saw her was when I got angry with her.
What impression did I leave on her? Does she hate me? Has she gone away thinking I'm bad? I thought. And when I realized all this, I started to cry.
I didn't speak during the time I was like that, but my sister babbled a lot of things, some I understood, others I didn't.
"I don't want to lose you too!… Please don't leave me alone…"
Don't leave me alone.
When we calmed down, my sister told me one last thing on the subject.
"And, I wanted to tell you something else. Mom told me not to tell you, so don't say anything, okay?"
" O-okay…"
"It's about Grandma, she wanted me to say something to you. You don't mind hearing it, do you?"
"Y-yes! I want to hear it," I said, mostly afraid.
A flood of thoughts and words ran through my mind, all of them negative. I'm sure Grandma was mad at me and left feeling upset. Why did I have to behave like this?
"I wrote it down on a note. Would you prefer me to read it, or could you read it on your own?"
" I prefer you read it to me..."
"...I'll start now…
" Riku, forgive me for being like this. I don't want to be like this either, but it's my turn. I'm sure you understand why; you're very clever, after all. And, you caring so much about me makes me want to cry, but I won't. I don't want to make you sadder than you already are."
"I love you. I could never be angry with you, especially knowing what a good person you are. Take care of your mother while I'm gone, help your father, and be good to your sister. I just hope that from time to time, you'll come see me. I don't want you to stay angry with me. I'm not angry with you, that's why I want you to come. I don't want you to forget that I love you, Riku. Take care."
My sister finished telling me word-for-word what my grandmother had said. I felt as if she had told me at that moment. As if she had come back just to tell me those last words.
"Grandma…" It didn't take long for me to start crying again, my voice even more broken. I sobbed profusely, and I began to shake.
I lunged at my sister, hugging her. With no intention of stopping, I grabbed the back of her shirt.
"Forgive me, Grandma!… I… I… I'm sorry…"
I didn't cry for long, but I did spend a lot of time with my sister. She comforted me as much as she could.
She didn't cry again. She cared more about caring for me. Feeling her hand stroke my hair relaxed me. Feeling her warmth calmed me. Feeling her hands holding me calmed me. I found relief just knowing I was with her.
I felt as if my body was floating in space, a warm space, with countless bright stars… A dazzling place, radiating with energy, a place…
A white place.