In the Shadow of Loss

As rain tapped against the car window, I was still telling Norma we'd go buy her favorite strawberry cake that afternoon. She sat in her car safety seat, her little legs swinging, her voice sweet as if soaked in honey. "Mom, I want the biggest one, and I'll share it with Dad." I smiled and reached out to gently stroke her soft hair. At the next intersection, the traffic light switched to red. I pulled the handbrake and turned my head, wanting to say one more thing to her. The piercing screech of the brakes suddenly cut through the rain. I only had time to see a runaway truck hurtling towards us, instinctively trying to shield Norma. The violent impact flipped the car over. The sharp sting of glass shards piercing my skin mingled with Norma's short, frantic cries. In an instant, the world turned into a blood-red slow motion. I was trapped in the mangled driver's seat, helplessly watching the car safety seat shatter to pieces. Norma's tiny body lay in a pool of blood, completely still. I can't clearly remember what happened afterward. All I remember is Cameron, like a madman, prying open the twisted car door and pulling me out. His voice was trembling as he kept calling my name, calling Norma's name over and over. I was like a soulless puppet, letting him hold me, my eyes fixed lifelessly on the patch of rainwater stained red. Norma's strawberry cake, in the end, was never bought. After the funeral, I couldn't eat anything anymore. No matter how many of the dishes Cameron made that I used to love, even if it was just a spoonful of porridge, I couldn't help but gag when it was brought to my lips. My stomach was empty, yet it was filled with overwhelming fear and guilt, leaving no space for anything else. I always felt it was because I hadn't protected Norma well enough. If I hadn't chosen that road, if I had driven a little slower, if I had reacted even a little faster... Countless "ifs" swirled in my mind, slicing at my nerves repeatedly like knives. My weight is dropping at a rate visible to the naked eye. Clothes that once fit now hang loosely, empty and swaying. The face in the mirror is pale, with sunken eye sockets, protruding cheekbones, and a hollow, terrifying gaze. I don't dare look in the mirror, nor be alone; nights awake me with nightmares, filled with Norma's crying voice calling for her mother. I began to feel that living held no meaning. Without Norma, this house is no longer a home. The first time I tried to kill myself was during the third week after Norma left. At the moment when Cameron was at the Company, I found the sleeping pills at home and shoved them all into my mouth at once. The bitter taste of the pills spread across my tongue, yet I felt a sense of relief. As my consciousness blurred, I thought I saw Norma running toward me, smiling, calling out, "Mom." When I came to again, I was lying in a hospital bed. Cameron sat by my bedside, his eyes bloodshot, blue stubble peppering his chin, his whole self exhausted beyond recognition. Seeing that I'd woken, he suddenly grabbed my hand, his voice raw and hoarse. "Fiona, you scared me to death." His hand was burning hot, trembling with heat. I turned my face away, not wanting to look at him. "Let me die, Cameron." I whispered, "I'm sorry for Norma, I didn't protect her." Cameron's body stiffened for a moment, then he held me tightly in his arms. His chin rested on the top of my head, his shoulders trembling slightly. "It's not your fault, Fiona." He repeated over and over, "It was an accident. It has nothing to do with you. Don't carry all the blame yourself." "I can't live without you, Fiona." His voice trembled with tears, "Norma is already gone. What should I do if something happens to you too?" I leaned into his embrace, tears finally flowing uncontrollably. That was the first time I cried out loud since Norma left.