In the morning, a gray light filtered through the thin lace curtains of the window, filling my room. I didn't want to leave the warmth under the duvet. Today was one of those days that came with the same weight for years. The heaviest of calendar pages: September 9th… 07:09 AM. It was as if even the numbers were mocking me.
I got up slowly. I shivered as the cold wooden floor touched my feet. I opened the wardrobe door and my hands reached for the black overcoat at the very back. I wore it every year on this day; old, but somehow belonging to this day. I put on a thin sweater inside and dark-colored pants. Simple from the outside, but storms were hidden inside me. I tied my hair up and didn't even try to cover the tiredness under my eyes.
The sound of the coffee machine in the kitchen echoed off the empty walls. I took a sip of coffee, but it didn't go down my throat. I took my bag, put my keys in my pocket. As I closed the door, I took a deep breath; this breath was the last one before leaving the secure atmosphere of the house.
When the car engine started, a light rain had begun. As we moved away from the city crowd toward the coast, raindrops started racing on the window. The sky was completely covered with dark clouds. When I neared the old district's borders, a lightning suddenly split the sky. The thunder that followed seemed to shout all the pains of my past.
The rain intensified, the wipers couldn't keep up. As I entered the district, the roads narrowed, and the old stone buildings passed by like ghosts. The smell of the sea mixed with salt and humidity filled my nose. I found a suitable parking spot. When I got out of the car, the rain hit my face; I didn't have an umbrella, and even if I did, I wouldn't have used it. Today, getting wet was also part of this journey.
I stepped onto the narrow path leading to the cemetery next to the churchyard. My feet sank into the mud, cold water seeped up to my ankles. The wind blew my hair and the edges of my overcoat. With every step, the hesitation inside me grew, but turning back… was impossible.
When I reached the cemetery gate, the old iron door creaked open. As I stepped inside, the rain eased a bit, but the gloom seemed hidden in the very air of this place. Raindrops fell on the headstones, and the inscriptions stared at me with faded letters. My feet took me along a familiar route; the same path every year, with the same steps...
And there it was in front of me. A black marble grave, isolated from the others, like a stranger in this cemetery. The raindrops on it disappeared into the black stone. My knees gave way, and I bent forward. When my hands touched the cold surface of the stone, all the voices inside me fell silent.
At that moment, an invisible knot formed in my throat. My eyes filled with tears. A few drops, mixed with rain, fell onto the stone. But… there was something else. A feeling. A gaze piercing the center of my back, reaching my skin. It was so strong I had to hold my breath. I didn't lift my head; because if I turned around, I was sure I would see someone standing there.
I stayed like that for a while. Then, driven by a sudden urge inside me, I headed towards the church.
The church door creaked as it opened. When I stepped inside, the centuries-old wooden scent and the flickering light of the candles welcomed me. No one was there. I knelt down and bowed my head. My lips moved; words that no one else should hear, a prayer only God and maybe the past would hear.
While praying, another lightning struck from outside. A thin shadow passed beneath the door… Maybe it was the wind playing tricks, or maybe… something else.