Bereavement

By Bradley Sullivan

Akiha Astelle opened her front gate. She walked past her parents’ small garden, which had a makeshift greenhouse covering all of the vegetables. They would be harvested and used in just a month or two. As she walked up to the front door of her house, just up the hill from her high school, she noticed once again the lack of decoration on it. Her parents weren’t much for flashy accessories like a door knocker or even a welcome mat, and so they left the door white and blank. Akiha walked through the door and set her backpack down underneath the currently empty coat rack. Coats were stored in the closet until October. Just as Akiha took off her shoes and began to walk into the living room, she was attacked by her sister, Lindsey.

“A-ki-ha!” she said as she lifted Akiha up off the ground and tightly embraced her.

“Hi… Lindsey. I missed… you!”

“How was school? Did you have a good day?”

“I would…tell you that…but you’re crushing…my lungs!” Akiha replied.

“Oh, sorry!” Lindsey dropped Akiha.

“School was normal. I did quit the chess club though. The other members started throwing out complicated terms like ‘Tennison Gambit,’ and ‘Bishop’s Opening,’ and ‘Uno Reverse’—I couldn’t keep up.”

“You don’t need to know the names of the chess moves, just how to play them and when,” Lindsey said. Akiha quickly glanced at her sister’s shelf in the entryway. It was full of ribbons, trophies, commendations, and other prestigious awards. There sat many different extracurricular activities that Lindsey had excelled at, including chess, basketball, tennis, art, writing, and many other trivial games and sports awards that their parents had deemed fit to display to any guest who visited the household.

“Yeah,” Akiha murmured. “Sure.” Both sisters paused for a moment, and Akiha hung her head a bit, twirling her twintails.

“Hey, Akiha,” Lindsey said, putting her hands on Akiha’s shoulders.

“What?”

“Let’s go hang out this weekend, just you and me. We’ll travel around town and play games, watch a movie, have dinner.” Lindsey paused for another few seconds. “How about it?”

Akiha’s heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t hung out with her sister in a long time. Lindsey was always busy with some random extracurricular activity. “But don’t you have to go to that fencing tournament this weekend? What would Mom and Dad say if you skipped it?”

“I quit fencing. It got boring. The last tournament I went to was more waiting than it was actually fencing,” Lindsey replied with no hesitation.

“That means we can spend the whole day together, right? No distractions, no parents, nothing?”

“That’s correct. Just you and me and any other strangers that happen to be around us.”

“Can we get ice cream too? The same ice cream shop that you usually go to?”

“Sure, Akiha. Anything you want.”

Akiha had a hard time sleeping. Tomorrow was going to be the best day ever. The last time Lindsey had time to hang out, their parents had told Lindsey that she needed to study so she could pass her tests. This time would be different, there would be nothing stopping them now that Lindsey was over eighteen and out of their control. Tomorrow was going to be amazing.

But that day never came.

Akiha sat and stared in the direction her sister’s coffin was set up. There were no thoughts, just stares. She vaguely heard Lindsey’s friends and teachers croak out words of praise and memories through choked tears. She heard her mom, openly sobbing as her dad comforted her and wiped her trailing makeup off her face. She heard the creaks of the building, as if it was crying too, at the loss of Lindsey Astelle from the earth. The only thing that Akiha could stare at was the picture placed directly in front of her. A picture that showed her sister, smiling and carefree, with the same eyes, same nose, same face as her. She might have been much more mature looking, but there was no mistaking that the long brown hair and the green eyes were her sister’s. A seizure, they said a few days later, after the autopsy. They had no idea how a person so young could have had a seizure, with no previous signs of epilepsy or other conditions that typically cause them. Akiha didn’t care. Her sister was taken from her, the only thing worth caring about.

Akiha and her parents quietly got out of their car and walked through the gate and past the garden, harboring food for four, and unlocked the door without a word. They both gave their remaining daughter a tight hug, and all three Astelles moved to the living room. The house now had an eerie feeling hanging over it. No lights could stamp it out, and no sound could scare it away. Akiha sat down on the algae-green couch. She hated the unknown dark brown wood that made up the floors, and she despised the fact that the room was so large. The kitchen was set up right behind the living room with no walls to separate it, and it seemed to split the room in two. But there she sat, staring at the mahogany coffee table built by her sister during the single month of woodworking she took. It had an elegant pattern of triangles laid in a way that separated all but the corners of each black and brown triangle. Lindsey’s name was engraved on the side. Akiha sat on the couch all night and woke up the next day to the sun from the window beside the fireplace’s ledge that housed various family pictures.

Despite the principal telling Akiha's parents that she could take time off of school, Akiha ate the bare minimum for breakfast and walked down the hill as usual. Both of her parents had gone to work, and Akiha had decided that she was better off going to school, even if she missed every word that was said. She hadn’t bothered to get properly dressed, so her hair was unkempt and down, and her clothes didn’t match. Some classmates would point and gossip about the quiet girl who didn’t bother to get ready properly, and others would try to change the topic. The teachers of each period all tried to console her in different ways. The English teacher had pulled her aside and gave his condolences, as he had taught both sisters. The history teacher gave her a textbook speech about death and how it can affect somebody. The math teacher ignored her phone blowing up on her desk and gave Akiha a hug.

For weeks after Lindsey passed, life stood still. Akiha had nothing to strive for, and her parents were too overwhelmed with work to help, or so they said. But after the first snow cascaded down and began to pile up, and when her Dad began driving her to school on his way to work, things started to change. The Subaru Impreza that they had owned for nearly nine years backed out of the gravel driveway, and Akiha’s dad asked her the basic questions.

“How are you doing?”

“Fine,” Akiha said.

“Things at school are going okay?”

“They’re normal.”

“Good.” They continued the silence that enveloped their daily routine until Akiha’s dad began to speak again. “I’m sorry your mom and I have been so distant.”

“You’re saying that now?” Akiha commented half under her breath.

Her dad looked hurt, but he understood the remark and continued. “If you need to talk to us at all, our phones will be on, and we will be home early today. If you’d like, I can even come pick you up after school.”

“I’m good—” Akiha stopped herself. She had no reason to refuse. “Alright. Sure,” she said. Her dad gave her a faint smile as he pulled into the school drop-off area.

Akiha silently sat down at her desk for English and waited for class to begin. As she was scrolling through various games and sports articles detailing the rules and strategies, a shadow made its way onto the desk. Akiha looked up to see one of the chess club members awkwardly standing next to her, waiting to be acknowledged. Akiha looked up at her and gave her a face that meant “What do you want?”

“Uh, hi… Akiha. You haven’t been to the club in a while… and I was wondering if you were still wanting to learn basic openers? You don’t have to come… but I thought that… it would be nice to have something to do at lunch.” The girl said. Akiha’s first thought was to shove her away or ignore her, but something nagged at her when she thought about it, and she voted against it.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there.” Akiha stated bluntly to the girl.

“O-okay. I’ll have the board set up for you when you get there!” The girl waved back to Akiha as she walked quickly out of the room and back to her own class. Akiha went back to reading her article about bowling curves and techniques.

Lunch came along faster than usual, and Akiha grabbed her crustless peanut butter and jelly sandwich and potato chips that she had stored in her lunchbox and walked up the stairs and into the chess club room, which was just a math classroom for freshmen. The room was filled with inspirational math-based quotes and piles of the same six-year-old textbook that she used just last year. The desks were combined by two and formed six different chess tables, with all but one seat occupied. Akiha sat across from the girl, Kenzie, and ate lunch while learning basic strategies and openings. The hole in her chest subsided for that short time.

The next day, Kenzie walked up to Akiha’s desk once again before the first period started.

“Hi, Akiha. Are you going to come to chess?” Kenzie said. She paused for a short moment, “Today, I mean. At lunch.”

“Sure. I can come again.”

“Great! I… also wanted to ask you if you wanted me to help you with your hair.” Kenzie pulled out a hairbrush, some hairpins, and a scrunchie. Akiha hesitated but decided to let Kenzie brush and style her hair, as there were still at least ten minutes until class started. While Kenzie was busy brushing, Akiha learned she was a freshman and that she lived just a few blocks down the hill from Akiha. While Kenzie was expertly forming a ponytail, Akiha learned that she enjoyed teaching others and helping them. After Kenzie had finished the ponytail and put her stuff away, Akiha also learned that Kenzie was really good at styling hair.

The bell had rung for lunch in record time. Akiha walked upstairs and into the freshman math room once again. Kenzie had sat at the same table as the day before and, again, beckoned Akiha to sit down. She did so, and opened her lunchbox to reveal an expertly crafted submarine sandwich and a note from her dad. “For my lovely daughter.” Akiha gave the faintest of smiles and began to play more chess with Kenzie.

Each day followed a similar pattern. Kenzie would style Akiha’s hair in the morning, revealing more and more about her interests and experiences, and Akiha would listen intently. At lunch Akiha would head into the chess club room, find various notes and food from her parents, and learn more and more about chess, including move predictions, forking, and many chess puzzles. Each day cycle patched a section of the unfillable hole within Akiha’s chest.

On the last day of school, Kenzie asked if she could come over to Akiha’s house. She hesitated, as nobody had been over in a very long time, but said yes. Akiha’s dad drove them both to Kenzie’s house to grab clothes, and then to Akiha’s house. They parked in the driveway and walked past the half-torn-apart garden, towards the door that was now decorated with a flowery sign that read, “Welcome.” As they stepped inside, all three of them took off their shoes and began walking towards the living room. Kenzie stopped and looked at the shelf still on the left of the hallway.

“Who earned all these awards? There's a lot of them,” she asked. Akiha’s chest clenched hard.

“Those are our other daughter’s awards,” Akiha’s dad said. “She passed away last August.”

“Oh… I-I’m sorry.”

Akiha stood still and stared at the shelf. She hadn’t looked at it in a long time, and the sight of it caused the emotions to well up inside her. Kenzie seemed to notice because she pressed the issue no further. Kenzie and Akiha headed upstairs into Akiha’s room, and Kenzie took out a chess set from her backpack. They played for a while, until it became dark.

“Akiha?” Kenzie said.

“Yeah?”

“How was your sister? Was she amazing?”

Akiha paused for a moment. She remembered all the things that Lindsey had mastered and all the things they had done together. She responded after a long time, “She was amazing. The best, ever.” The hole in her chest began to close, and Akiha felt a level of closure that she had never felt in many months.

The next morning, on the first day of summer vacation, Akiha and Kenzie both entered a small chess tournament being held at a tabletop game store close to the school. The room was full of people of all kinds, from younger kids with their parents to older people wanting to show their experience. Akiha and Kenzie both signed up and made their way up the bracket. Both of them played well, and Akiha ended up with a second-place ribbon and a smooth glass queen piece, while Kenzie left with a third-place ribbon and a smooth glass rook piece. The girls smiled and talked as they recalled the games they played while they waited for Akiha’s mom and dad to swing by on the way home. Once they had left the game store, they dropped Kenzie off at her house and went home.

“How was it? Did you fight hard?” Akiha’s mom asked as they pulled into the driveway.

“It was so fun. Kenzie and I were on opposite ends of the bracket, so we didn’t go against each other. I was beaten in the last round by an older guy who apparently used to play competitive chess across the country,” Akiha said with a smile on her face. All three Astelles walked across the path, past the rebuilt garden covered in a brand new greenhouse, and towards the repainted white door with a black doormat and the welcome sign covered in red and blue flowers. Akiha and her parents walked inside, took off their shoes, and placed her glass queen and second place ribbon on a dark wooden shelf that Akiha’s dad had taken out of the garage. Besides the awards from that night, the shelf was empty. But, in due time, it would look just like the one to its left—the shelf full of the trophies that belong to Lindsey Astelle.



Bradley Sullivan is an online graduate student at Southern New Hampshire University, soon to graduate with a degree in creative writing and English. He lives in Helena, Montana, with his grandfather and works in the school district as a paraeducator for the local after-school program. He has been enamored with stories of all kinds his whole life, writing anything from satirical stories to explorative ones. He has written and submitted many short stories, and this marks his debut into the writing world.