The sudden buzz of my phone shattered the quiet evening. I glanced down, heart sinking when I saw the sender: Principal Adam.
"Hello, students. I know you're all wondering why you got a message after nearly twenty years of silence. Many of you have asked for a reunion. Honestly, I hadn't planned anything serious, but you were the first graduating class to overcome such a tragedy that cost you half a year of classes. I wanted to do something for you all. It's been difficult, painful even, to gather this together, but I hope each of you can make time. There will be friend gatherings, classroom reunions, and a school-wide event. I hope you'll come—to relive memories, reconnect, and perhaps find closure."
My eyes blurred as the weight of the words sank in. A tear escaped, trailing down my cheek.
Do I really have to? I whispered. The thought of stepping back into that place, surrounded by ghosts I thought I'd buried, twisted my gut.
The tragedy. The silence that followed. The missing pieces no one ever talked about.
Why did it always feel like it was me who had to face it? Why couldn't I just let it rest?
I asked myself, trying to reassure my trembling heart. I have survived worse. So, I think I can do this after all.
I can do this. I will be able to do it—as always.
After all, it was Principal Adam who had helped me when I needed it most.
Yet, the message was clear: the past wasn't done with us. And maybe, neither was the pain.
I sat back, the familiar ache settling around my heart. Twenty years, and suddenly the past was knocking at the door again.
Was I ready to answer?