Say Goodbye

• Rebekah Bojkovska, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2009

It was the first time I had been here in ten years, and everything looked exactly the same. There was still the lakeside breeze. There was still Whitmore Park where the children would play after school. There was still a rusty, old library next to the primary school. There was still the cheesy sign that you saw driving into town which said ‘Welcome to Hurston’. That was something I loved about this town, it was timeless. I left for good reasons –I wanted to be a music executive and I don’t think that I would be the most coveted music executive under thirty if I had stayed. I turn into Slope Road and stop in front of a yellow and white cottage. Some of the bricks from the roof were broken and the sky blue paint on the windows was faded and was starting to come off. I walk out of the car and up the stairs. I get out my key, which I haven’t used for years, open the door and walk into the house which was once my home.
I still smell my mother’s scent through the house, vanilla and chamomile. I close my eyes and just stand there taking it in. After all I won’t ever be able to smell it again. I open my eyes and feel a tear in the corner of my eye. I quickly compose myself as there are lots to be packed. The memories are everywhere: scents, photos and even furniture. I start packing everything but it’s hard. I start remembering the last time I saw her. It was when I told her I was leaving Hurston. I sigh as I think of all the times I could have visited but simply chose not to and to do something else instead, like go to Paris or London. The regret is so consuming I can’t help stop the tears I feel running down my face.
All the packing is finally done. I lock up and leave the key under the mat where I told the real estate agent I would. I sit on the front steps. An old woman walks past, a neighbour, who I recognise from my childhood. She stops when she notices me.
“Emily?”
“Ms Fisher, long time.”
“Yes. I was so sorry to hear about your dear mother. It was so odd for her to have a heart attack despite the fact that she was so healthy.”
I nodded in reply.
I went to the beach. It was the place where I had the fondest memory of her. We had spent a whole day there, building sandcastles, exploring rock pools, splashing in the water. I take a long sigh, open the urn with my trembling hands and spread her ashes in the sea where we spent a whole day laughing and smiling in the sun. I take one last look before I walk away and let go of the only thing connecting me to that small, lakeside town.