In Creative Corner, Short Stories

Mum is nagging me again. “Put your room in order!” She’s checked in, for the 10th time in an hour to see how fast I am coping.

“Yeah, you really are eager for me to get out of here,” I said, half-joking, half sad. I’m moving out in two days time and have yet to pack anything. It’s just so overwhelming and there is much stuff to sort out, decide what to keep, what to leave and what to donate. And some pieces have many memories that I just stop for some minutes to remember & then make my decision.

My mum volunteered to help, but I refused because her helping me would just mean constant nagging: “Why did you keep this? Why do you still hold onto this junk? Why didn’t you throw away these? What are these?” No, I’ll pass that, thanks!

But it takes a lot of time and I am so tired! Just thinking about what is coming next freaks me out. I am moving out because I will be living with my husband, in another city. This change is exciting and scary at the same time. We have been planning this for months. On paper, this seemed easy but the execution is another story. Completely.

Done with the drawers, the papers, jewellery boxes, books and decorations, I decided to tackle the biggest task: clothes. I am kind of a messy girl, so my closet is already a big mess that needs to be sorted out. That will just take the rest of the day. I take a deep breath and decide to finally get serious with this task.

I had put a large carpet in the middle of the room, and I put the clothes on it, batch by batch. By the fourth trip, I am almost done emptying the closet. My last trip held the last set of clothes and a small shoebox that was way in the back, totally hidden from view. I have no idea what it holds so I sit down, in the middle of all the clothes and open it.

I wish I hadn’t! It holds all my memories with him… My first love. I didn’t dare look so much at the pictures; I just shredded and threw them away. I don’t want anything to remind me of him. The small little box that was in the corner frightened me the most. Not sure what I would find in it but I knew it would be painful to see. I put it aside and started sorting the clothes, mechanically, without thinking. I was just folding them and piling them up in categories: pants, skirts, dresses, shirts…

The box next to me, I have the impression that it is screaming at me, demanding for my attention. As if it was saying: “Stall all you want, but I am here and you WILL open me.” Crazy right?

I finally open the dreaded box and time stops. My breath becomes heavy and tears pour down my face, without control. This small box holds our wedding rings. The rings that we didn’t get to wear. The rings we bought together, promising each other to be faithful till the end of time, and make each other happy.

What lies! And I was so stupid, for believing it and not seeing the truth sooner. Two weeks after purchasing those rings and one week before our wedding, I discovered everything! I discovered all the lies he has been feeding me and all the affairs he was having. Just by mere coincidence.

Memories of that day came rushing back, at once. I went to our new apartment, the one we had furnished together, only to find him there with her! In OUR new apartment, the one where we were supposed to live happily ever after. At that moment, everything was shattered. My life almost ended and the little innocent stupid girl inside of me died. He killed my happiness and all my hopes.

When I saw that scene, all the small details that I discarded came back and made clear sense: the late strange phone calls, the text messages that he deleted, the dates that he skipped, pretexting other meetings and other things that I don’t remember now.

Read Grandpa’s First Christmas – A Short Story by Oyeniyi George, Nigeria

And it was hard getting over him… Days of crying, days of staying isolated. Tonnes of messages from relatives and friends trying to console me, genuinely or just to ease their spirits. Thankfully, my parents helped me get over that situation and recover my life.

Years later, I couldn’t trust anyone and I hated all men. Ultimately, my current fiancé showed up. He is a true miracle. He is the man that he would never be.  He took me out of this misery and restored my faith in humanity.

I didn’t want to remember all that. I didn’t even know when I threw this shoe box inside my closet. Finding it was a big shock. My mum came to check my advancement again, found me in the middle of the clothes, holding the rings and crying. She understood, holds me tight and takes the rings from my hand. Later on, she calls my fiancé and he talks to me. He is the only one that can sooth me.

And I totally thank him for that. He showed me how much I’ve changed and that old memories don’t matter anymore.

Truly, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger!

 

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In the Far Corner of my Closet – A Short Story by Houda Messoudi, Morocco

Time to read: 4 min
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On second streetBeehive