Letting Go (#Just抖阴社区It 30-Days Challenge)

Who said this life was set in stone?

I didn't, I'm going out on my own

I can't tell you where I'm headed but, I know I'm gone

Not always right but, I'm not always wrong

I flipped the first one in the sequence. It was a photo of a park. I saw a glimpse of dark brown ringlets in the photo. The photo was taken inside a bus and it was Teanna's hair reflected on the window glasses.

She wanted me to discover and experience it. She wanted me to go through the journey she was in. She wanted me to write it down.

I quickly took down all of the photos and tucked them inside my notebook. With my notebook and pencil in my worn-out, floral-patterned sling bag, I changed to my gray Chucks and left the house to the bus stop.

It was early in the morning and I could smell the coffee from the kitchen. The thing I was going to do was more vital than breakfast. Even more important than Mom's home-made raspberry jam spread on bagel.

"Mom, I'm going out!" I told her from the front door. Without waiting for any answers, I jogged to the bus stop. The cold morning air stung the bare skin of my hands, my neck and my face. The bus arrived five minutes later.

As I settled down on the seat, I brought out Teanna's first photo. I studied it again - a park with a pathway leading to somewhere behind the hill, lush green grass with some other colours from the flowers. The bus passed in front of a few houses then, the town area. I turned away from the sight of the bookstore we'd used to go, the florist's where Teanna would stop by to buy sunflowers and the cake shop where Teanna would force me to indulge the brownies she'd always loved. She wasn't a sweet-tooth but, brownies temptation was irresistible to her.

I wasn't sure if I should take another bus to reach there so, I stayed in the same bus, waiting for the sight of the park to appear. One stop left and I still didn't see the park. People interchanged in the bus. I'd seen new people every time the bus stopped. One time, there's an old man in plaid shirt, clutching a bag of groceries to his chest as he stepped in. I could make out a packet of flour and chocolate syrup inside the bag. His wife might be waiting at home, ready to bake a chocolate cake for the tea time. I could imagine the old couple, sitting in their backyard, having hot tea and cake while having a confab of their days.

At one stop, a Muslim girl about my age climbed in. She was pretty in the light pink hijab she wore, a classic combination of colours when it was matched with a brown dress. The cool thing was, she wore a pair of black Vans at the bottom of her all-feminine couture. It wasn't plain black. There were some drawings of red roses on both shoes.

However, the little boy beside me still hadn't reached his destination. He might be around eleven years old.

"Hello." I tried to talk to him.

"Bonjour," he answered. His face lit up with a wide smile. "Don't worry, I ain't French."

I liked his smile. His white teeth sparkled. The main attraction of his features, I nominated it silently. His dark skin made his smile even more cheerful.

"I saw you looking at the picture since then. I know that place." He looked forward, checking around. "In five seconds, you may press the buzzer."

"Oh thanks."

He was too busy doing the countdown until he didn't realize I was thanking him. When he said "Five" in a very euphoric tone, I pressed the buzzer. I thanked him again before I went out of the bus. He waved at me from inside the bus. I would miss this kid.

To be frank, I didn't have any idea where to head next. Here I was, standing at the beginning of the gravel pathway. The park was wide though. The edge was surrounded by trees. I followed the path, letting it lead me to where I should go. I sauntered slowly, cherishing the beauty of nature where pollution still hadn't got its claws in yet. The path brought me up and down the hill, leaving behind the path. There were some joggers I'd met along the way. I could hear music floating into the empty space around us from their earphones. Mostly, hip hop or indie songs. Their steady breaths accompanied my fast steps.

My feet halted when the path ended. In front of me was a lake. Motionless, but far too deep. There might be so many valuable things embedded in it. Rivers and lakes are hoarders, anyway. They collect things and keep it to themselves. I looked up for something Teanna-related. Maybe carvings on tree trunks or a grave for a bird. She did bury a dead nightingale at our front lawn when we were kids. Teanna said animals deserved to be respected because they balanced the nature. She even thanked the dead bird for maintaining the nature equilibrium in her eulogy for the bird. I looked around for any signs of her but still, nothing. I was about to go back to the park but thinking of Teanna's will, I kept searching.

Nothing but trees and benches ad birdhouse.

Wait a sec.

The birdhouse beside the bench was about ten metres away behind me. The bench was quite hidden. The birdhouse didn't quite look like a birdhouse. It was painted in Teanna's colour, green and brown. I was curious of it. A shady tree sheltered the bench, creating an umbrella of leaves above the bench. I approached it.

The birdhouse had a door. I opened it. Inside it was books, arranged neatly. Books from different genres united under the small roof of a birdhouse. The classic Northanger Abbey, the movie tie-in version of Warm Bodies, the young adult contemporary, Unraveling Isobel, the literature du jour Paper Towns - lots of books but just to name a few.

There was a Walkman player. With earphones.

Resting underneath the Walkman player was three CD cases. Letting Go EP, I Like That EP, A Short Story Long EP. All of them were Before You Exit's EPs. These were Teanna's. The small library was Teanna's. This was Teanna's special place.

I played Letting Go on the player, some music to celebrate my little findings that morning. I sat on the bench, enjoying Teanna's definition of good music. There was no doubt of why Teanna loved the band.

Because you could feel something different behind their music.

A family's love.