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I
watched him burn. It wasn’t exactly him. His face had become completely unrecognizable after who knows how long in the water. I smelled a strong odor when they brought his casket in and opened it for me to see. His body was already in the process of decomposition. The odor disappeared as soon as his casket was shut in the crematorium oven.
All one could see were the flames. That’s what his life had come to, ashes. Sixty years' worth of memories turned into nothingness. I had not been able to cry since last night. Even if I willed them to, no tears came. Andrew stood beside me. He held my hand in his and rubbed soothing circles with his thumb. He knew how much Doctor Tsunoda meant to me.
“I think someone’s following me.” My statement took Andrew by surprise, and he immediately stopped me from walking. We had left the crematorium and were now walking toward the university to pack up the rest of Doctor Tsunoda's belongings. It had already become dark outside. The street was bustling as usual. I wanted to scream at these people who were carrying on with their life normally, “HOW CAN THE WORLD MOVE ON SO EASILY?!!” But it did. The world did move on. His being gone changed nothing. The sun still set like usual. “What do you mean someone has been following you?”
Concern flashed across his honey-brown eyes. I continued, "At first, I thought I was being paranoid, but the day of the hillside, my apartment was broken into. And I hear the clicking of heels at night." "Did you report it to the police?" I heard Andrew say. "No. I don't know why, but I cannot get myself to tell anyone. You are the first person I have told this to." Andrew tried to convince me to go to the police, but I was adamant.
A part of me was still afraid that my paranoia was acting up, and it was all going to turn out to be nothing. My mind did not trust itself. Exasperated, Andrew finally whispered, “Why won’t you just listen to me?” I could hear the pain in his voice. It was so raw that it made my own heart break. I knew he wasn't just talking about the stalking; it was everything. I hid everything about myself from him even when he proved over and over again that he was the only person I could talk to.
Even now, I was hiding. My entire childhood, my doubts about my father, having a sister, he knows none of it. I sighed and then proceeded to say, “I do not know why I always end up doing this.” The pain in his eyes was too much for me to bear. I looked away. I heard him whisper, "One of these days, I'm going to get tired of having to trust you when you give me nothing to prove that you are trustworthy, one of these days, it is going to be your last chance with me. Please, report to the police. We do not know who this person might be and what their intentions are. It is better to be safe than sorry." I did not know what to say to him. Hearing my silence, he simply walked away.
I went back to my apartment. My mind was too exhausted to even worry about someone having broken in. I took off my shoes and then proceeded toward my bedroom. The copy of Matilda was lying on my side table. “Why did you say that to me at the funeral? Andrew. What else did you know, Doctor Tsunoda? Andrew. Why couldn’t you have told me about my father? Or did he also deceive you?” So many questions. Andrew. I had so many questions for him. So many questions will remain unanswered. My mind would not stop blaming me for what happened. It keeps saying his name. Andrew, Andrew, Andrew. What if he really left? I know he loved me, but sometimes, love is not enough. He is right. How can he ever trust me when I keep lying to him? I'm exhausted. I want to run away. I lay down in bed and let my thoughts consume me, too tired to fight them away.
