Mourning Mornings

It had been a week since Catherine buried her Mom.

Most of the nights since the funeral, Catherine, I, and Peter slept on the same bed. Sometimes, she wept without Peter knowing. But he noticed her silently.

I was with her the whole time. At times she would squeeze me as tight as she could. I did not mind it if it helped her to console.

Catherine and Peter did not have much to discuss in those days. Only occasional conversations.

"Honey, what do you want for breakfast?"

"Eggs, Bacon, Sugary cereal?"

Cathy hesitantly replies as if she eats only to please her father.

"cereal with milk"

As Days passed like this, roughly after a week Peter asked at the breakfast table.

"Honey, do you want to go back to school?"

It took no time for Catherine to answer.

"Yes Daddy"

She almost broke down to tears while answering. Peter looked helpless. He just sat, looking at her.

That day she packed me in her school bag as she got ready to school later that morning. Hid me well inside. Because I am not supposed to be in her school bag.

----------- CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 5