Lonely sadness

Most of the time, people walked around me in a big arch. I wasn't used to anything else, and actually liked it. Until one day, if I remember correctly (because my memory sometimes failed me), it was September 25. The leaves on the trees slowly started to turn colour, but the weather still had a pleasant temperature of 22 degrees. Not that the weather ever stopped me: because no matter how hot, cold or wet it was. I was always here: lonely, alone with my sorrow. And that was fine. It felt good, better than therapy, because that's where I always had to talk about my feelings. Talking about feelings. what does it provide. I tried to ignore the voice of the unknown man who sat next to me. That worked until I heard a date that evoked emotional feelings. Feelings I tucked away years ago.

#shortstory #tale #solitary #sorrows #drama #amia

Then, August 17, 1994

Singing like almost every morning, Shanti got out of bed. It was like a picture from a storybook, with her blonde curls dancing around her face like a tornado. She received so many compliments about that bunch of curls she inherited from her mother. The mother she's been living without for two years now. Bad cancer a five-year-old shouldn't have to bury her mother. Life is unfair! But despite everything Shanti experienced in her young life, she remained positive and upbeat. The opposite of me. After losing my wife, I completely lost faith in life. I got drunk and lost my job. Until one day, Shanti came down and begged me to stop drinking. Her eyes filled with tears, she couldn't stand it anymore and shouted at me: I don't want to lose you, not like mom, but if you keep going like this, they'll take me away from you! My heart broke, how did I ever let it come to this. I wanted to fight for her, I didn't want to lose her, not like my wife. I went to therapy, quit drinking, and made sure I found a job again. It wasn't a top job, but I made enough money to make a living with Shanti. I had learned to deal with my lonely sadness. Life slowly started running smoothly again until that damned August 17, 1994.

28 years later, September 25, 2022

The image on the lunch box is almost blurred. What used to be a beautiful brown horse is now nothing more than a shadow. A ghost just like me, because that's all I'm not anymore. People: avoid me, they look at me strangely, they probably just see a neglected man with a pink/purple lunch box in his hands. And I can't blame them, the clothes I wore were full of stains, my hair was uncombed and my beard could also use a shave. Until September 25, 2022, an unknown, well-dressed man in a three-piece suit takes the empty seat next to me on the bench without asking. The excessive perfume around him makes me almost nauseous, but I suspect he thinks the same about my smell of sweat. I heard the man breathing heavily and nervously rubbing his feet on the ground. “August 17, 1994” he mumbles barely intelligibly. But the exact date he mentions, that damn date I never want to think about again. It's just that date that he mentions, why? He asks me not to interrupt him when he tells his story. I do my very best to ignore him, but the date he said keeps echoing in my head. Once again, I hear him ask not to interrupt him during his story. “Fine, tell your story, and get the hell out of it,” I say sullenly.

This is how the unknown man begins his story: “It was August 17, 1994. I was on my way to my first big job as a lawyer. At my age, this was a unique opportunity. I was only 22 years old, just graduated and had little experience in the law profession. Normally, you only get really big jobs after you have gained enough knowledge and have won things. But this client really wanted me, he said that school had recommended me. And at that age, as an inexperienced lawyer, I was still cheap. I'm sure that will also be included in his choice. August 17, 1994, I had met at my client's office at 8:45 am. The night before, I had double-checked my alarm clock, but on the day itself, it turned out that something had gone wrong. I woke up at 8 am and had to be on the other side of the city by 8:45 am. A trip that you normally drive in 15 minutes if the traffic lights are good. I rushed to the bathroom to do my care. And then dressed me up in one of my most luxurious suits. They sometimes say clothing makes men, and I relied on that, I wanted this job so much, it would be the best opportunity in my almost young lawyer career. If I were to finish this job, I would be right among the top lawyers and would never have to worry about jobs again. By car, I drove to the coffee corner one street away, I got a coffee to go there, because it wasn't possible to have an extensive breakfast. I placed the coffee cup in one of the cup holders and I resumed my trip. I remember it was already trouble at the first traffic light, red! I tapped the steering wheel nervously with my fingers, as if it would make the traffic light turn green more quickly. Students cross over with their bikes, parents also try to take their children almost safely to the other side. And then green, hop on and on. I drove 79 in a place where you were allowed 50. The clock was ticking and I had to and would get to my client's office on time. By now, I saw that it was already 835, I still had 5 minutes to get to my destination. And then another 5 minutes to report to my client's receptionist. The schools started at 8:30am so I was glad to be able to accelerate without fear of running into many students, or parents who drove through the streets at a snail's pace. I drove through the Wilhelminalaan, to Christinastraat, still at a speed I'm not proud of. There is a primary school on the corner of Christinastraat: I thought I remembered the Joseph school. And that's where it went wrong, out of nowhere I see a girl running across the road too late. A scream, a loud blow and then nothing complete silence. I slowly took my hands off the wheel, vibrating, opened the door and hoped I hadn't touched her. But there she was, at the front of my car. A girl with blonde curls, a lunch box lay a little further away. Exactly what you have in your hands right now. Only with the picture still intact. I panicked and didn't know what to do anymore. I looked at the front of my car and saw some damage, but it was negligible. I was afraid to touch her, not to see if she was still breathing. Instead, I got back into my car, backed it up and drove off. In my rearview mirror, I saw people running to the lifeless body, they turned her around and started resuscitating. And I I went to my client's office. To this day, I'm still haunted by nightmares, but like the damage to my car at that time, my nightmares are negligible compared to what you've had to go through over the past 28 years. I tried to contact you but couldn't. I was too weak for it. I'm sincerely sorry”