Rememberance

Jessica stared out at the marigold field in front of her and took in the beautiful array of colours. They were vibrant, gorgeous and completely heart halting. Hues of yellow, orange, and red littered the field like they dominated it…she inhaled deeply and felt the warm summer breeze carry the scent of the flowers into her nostrils. She came here every year, the same date, the same time- September the eleventh-1:45pm. Most people knew that as the date and time when the planes struck the towers…when countless lives were lost to a merciless terrorist attack. But Jessica knew that specific date as the time she lost her mother. Her mother worked in the building that was struck down first, she did something to do with the reception-looking back on it Jessica couldn’t remember exactly what she did, she wished she had, she wished she could go back in time and find out every little detail of her mothers life, learn every line and crevice on her face-she just wanted to memorise as much as she could. However, as she sat among the marigold flowers, tears clouded her eyes and the realisation hit her that she couldn’t go back, she couldn’t remember what her mother looked like, or the way her hair smelt after a shower…she couldn’t remember the sound of her laugh or her voice and she couldn’t remember when she last spoke to her. Jessica was always told how painful it was to lose someone that close to you, the absence of their soul will be an absence of your own as if part of their heart was also part of yours-but it wasn’t just that, it wasn’t just the feeling of loss, of pure destruction. But also the disappearance of memories that other children held so dear-the memories of opening presents on Christmas morning or walks in the forest as a family, or even completely meaningless memories that nobody really cared for until it was too late -like that one conversation you had before school on a Tuesday morning, or when you got your first boyfriend and your mother was more excited than you were. All of these things seemed pointless to remember at the time, but now her mother was gone she realised every memory and every morsel of her being ached for her mothers arms once again, wished that her mother was next to her, rubbing her head and telling her everything was going to be alright. Jessica heard a cracking of a twig behind her, she turned to see a short girl, her skin was deep mahogany and her afro was wild and crazy as always, she felt a smile bloom across her face at the sight of her best and longest friend-Kiarah.

***

Kiarah walked over to where Jess was and sat down gently, being careful not to crush too many of the marigolds as she gave her friends a kiss on the cheek. “How are you feeling?” Ki asked quietly, as if the sight of the marigolds had stolen her voice. “I’m okay today, the feeling usually hits at night.” Jessica responded. “When I am completely alone and everything is dark-that’s when I miss her most.” “Mine hits in the morning.” Ki said, pulling the petals from a stray marigold. “Eating breakfast with my parents in complete silence makes me realise just how much we lost that day.” Ki had lost someone too that day, her sister-only a couple years older than her and Jess. Her sister was only eighteen when she died, it was her first day on the job-her first day as a pizza delivery girl. Ki let herself smile as she remembered her mother taking pictures of her in her new uniform-the horrendous red and blue colors on the cap clashed awfully but it didn’t matter, she was excited, happy, and above all completely and utterly clueless. She darted out of the house and practically ran to work-it was midday when she got an order to one of the towers, fifth floor, block 7, office 356. Ki remembered every detail perfectly-she remembered calling her sister when she saw it on the news to tell her how crazy it all looked. That is what Ki and her sister did, they called each other whenever something major happened-they had the deepest, most interesting conversations about morale and

human emotion. She remembered her phone going straight to voice mail and not even thinking twice. She’s just busy. Ki thought. It was her first day on the job…but then she called when her shift ended and there was still no answer. The sound of her mother screaming as the phone clattered to the floor was something Ki would never forget, her father’s blood curdling cries as they latched on to each other in pain, they didn’t have to say a word for Ki to know what was going on. She lost part of herself that day, she lost her best friend and sister, her blood and family. “It’s harder this year.” Jessica said, snapping Ki out of her trance. “What do you mean?” “It’s like sometimes I wake up In the morning and I still expect her to be here, still expect her to have pancakes waiting for me at the table.” Jessica’s voice trembled slightly as she spoke. “Going downstairs and seeing dad’s alcohol bottle from the night before and an empty kitchen is…” She stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. “It’s devastating.” Ki rubbed Jesses back for a moment as tears filled her own eyes. “It gets harder every year because it gets more real.” Ki said, “every year the newspapers are filled with the deaths and the controversies, sometimes we forget it ever happened. We zone out and we pretend that everything is fine. That our lost ones are just on a long holiday and will be back soon.” Jess nodded, understanding precisely what Ki meant. “The journalists and the writers don’t understand that these are real people with real families who lost so much. They see a story and they see an opportunity.” “It’s almost as if it only happened to us.” Jess said. They lived in a small town, there was barely anything to do except the occasional outdoor cinema and a trip to the park. Jess had lived there her whole life apart from when her mother traveled for business, and Ki had moved after the attack. They met at the memorial service of 9-11. They were relatively young when it happened, and they were the only girls there of similar age. When Ki ran from the room crying, Jess went after her- they latched on to each other, finding comfort in the other one’s pain and anguish. They sat in silence at the service together and then walked through a park to talk afterward. They came across a bush of marigolds and sat by it for a moment. They went from talking to making marigold chains for each other-Jess still had hers under her bed, it was crinkled, brown, and dead but it didn’t matter-the memory was still there, it carried too much significance for her to throw it away and she hoped it was the same for Ki. Every year, when this day came around they would meet in the marigold field and they would talk for hours, they wouldn’t drink or smoke to cope-they both felt it would contaminate the land they were on. They just sat together and relished in each other’s presence. They liked to think that Jesse's mother and Ki’s sister were in heaven together, frolicking through a marigold patch just like this one-laughing and giggling-completely free from the clutches of death and the nagging responsibility of life. “You need to remember that there are people all over the world right now, sitting in places just like this thinking the exact same thing.” Ki said, her voice barely a whisper. “Everybody feels alone but in reality we aren’t, there are hundreds of people who lost mothers, fathers, brothers, and sisters.” Jess nodded as her friend spoke.

“It’s so easy to lose sight of just how awful it was.” Jess laid her head on Ki’s shoulder and inhaled her spicy sent-she smelt like cinnamon, she knew straight away that it was the same perfume her sister had worn. Jess did the same thing, each and every morning she would spray the same perfume her mother wore onto herself and take a deep breath. As they stared out at the marigold fields, they closed their eyes and fell asleep-dreaming of their mother and sister sitting beside them in the field.