A DAY OF SORROW

But it wasn’t my mother. A man’s voice came through the line, calm but with an edge that made my heart sink. “Hello, is this Cleo Benson?”

“Yes, who is this?” I asked, my breath catching.

“This is Dr. Stevens from St. Mary’s Hospital. Your family has been involved in an accident. You need to come to the hospital immediately.”

For a moment, I couldn’t speak, my throat tightening as the world around me seemed to spin. “What do you mean?” I finally managed to say, my voice cracking. “Why would they be involved in an accident, mother clearly said there was traffic?”

There was a pause on the other end, one that felt like an eternity. “Please, Miss Benson, you need to come here right away.”

I didn’t wait for further explanation. Panic surged through me, and I bolted from the venue, leaving a trail of stunned onlookers in my wake. My heart pounded as I raced through the hallways, out the doors where I hailed a taxi.

As the taxi sped towards the hospital, my thoughts were a chaotic whirl of fear and disbelief. This couldn’t be happening, today was meant to be my day, the happiest day of my life.

When I arrived at St. Mary’s, I saw my father’s eldest sister, Aunt Lydia, standing in the waiting room with her daughter, Ella. They looked pale, grief etched into their faces.

What were they doing here?

The moment Aunt Lydia saw me, her eyes hardened with anger. The doctor, a tall man with a kind but weary face, approached us just in time.

“Are you Miss Cleopatra Benson?” he asked gently.

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Where are they? Are they okay?”

The doctor hesitated, his eyes full of sympathy. “I’m so sorry to inform you, Miss Benson, but your parents and your two siblings… they didn’t survive the accident.”

The words hit me like a physical blow. I staggered backward, clutching my chest as if trying to hold my breaking heart together. “No… no, that can’t be true,” I murmured, shaking my head. “I just spoke to my mom… they were on their way…”

“It was a very severe accident,” Dr. Stevens continued softly, his voice filled with regret. “There was nothing we could do.”

For a moment, my world stopped. Everything around me, the sterile smell of the hospital, the murmur of voices, the distant hum of machinery; all of it faded into nothingness. I was floating in a void, unable to comprehend the magnitude of what I had just heard. My mind struggled to process the words, but they felt foreign, impossible like they belonged to someone else’s nightmare.

Aunt Lydia’s voice cut through the fog. “This is your fault, Cleopatra!” she screamed, her face twisted in grief and fury. “If it wasn’t for your damn graduation, my brother and his family would still be alive!”

“What?” I exclaimed in surprise. Wondering where the accusation was coming from. As long as I can remember, she already disowned her younger brother; my father five years ago because of an issue that was kept hidden from me.

Aunt Lydia lunged at me, her hands shaking with rage. “You killed them! You killed my only brother!”

I barely registered the first blow, a sharp pain on my shoulder, but the real agony was the accusation behind it. I could see the devastation in her eyes, the way her grief twisted her features into something unrecognizable. In her mind, blaming me was the only way to make sense of this senseless tragedy. But as her fists landed, all I could think was that maybe, in some way, she was right.

Ella tried to pull her mother back, her own eyes filled with tears. “Mom, stop it, please! Don't do this here!” But Aunt Lydia was relentless, her voice rising as she continued to vent her pain.

“You should have been the one in that car! Not them, not my brother!”

I didn’t fight back. I just stood there, my arms hanging limply at my sides, my eyes vacant as the tears streamed down my face. At that moment, the vibrant, joyous girl who had walked across the stage just minutes earlier seemed to vanish, replaced by someone hollow, broken.

I wanted to scream, to cry, to tell Aunt Lydia that she was wrong, that it wasn’t my fault.

What's so wrong about a parent attending their children's graduation ceremony?

But the words wouldn’t come. I was trapped in a silent nightmare, where nothing made sense, and everything hurt.

Eventually, the hospital staff intervened, gently pulling Aunt Lydia away. Dr. Stevens guided me to a nearby chair, his voice soothing as he spoke to me, but I barely heard him. All I could think of as I sat there, numb and broken, my mind drifted back to this morning. We had laughed over breakfast, my mother insisting that today would be perfect, no matter what.

My father had promised me he wouldn’t miss a single moment. My siblings had teased me but with pride in their eyes. Those moments, so full of life and love now felt like a cruel illusion and vanished in an instant. All the wishes, the prayers, the promises, they were gone, just like them. And all I was left with was the unbearable silence where their voices used to be.

Why me? I asked no one in particular.

***

Three days had passed since the devastating news, and I found myself standing at the burial site, the earth beneath my feet freshly turned, the air heavy with the scent of rain and the weight of loss. The sky was a somber gray as if the heavens themselves mourned with me. I stood by the graves of my parents and siblings, my heart shattered, my eyes red and swollen from days of endless crying.

As the funeral ended, Aunt Lydia, stepped forward, her face a mask of bitterness and unresolved anger. She looked down at the graves, her lips twisted in a sneer, before turning her gaze to me.

“This is your mother’s fault,” Aunt Lydia hissed, her voice sharp and accusing. “Your mother was nothing but trouble from the start. She seduced my brother, and pulled him away from his own family, all because we didn’t approve of her. And now look, she’s taken him and your siblings to the grave with her.”