78. Please Help Me

Isla's POV.

Sitting on the bare floor in the cemetery my face red and scrunched up as hot torrents of grief coursed down my face

“Why did you have to go Dad? Why mom? Now I feel alone, I feel abandoned." I wailed, my voice coming out in cracky shrieks.

I saw shadowy silhouettes make their way to me from a distance. The hue of the approaching dawn making it hard to see. In no time, they were in front of me and I was happy. I knew I was. I had wanted to smile, but my lips were stiff and the tears still fell down in torrents. What was happening?

I could barely make out my mom's face. I could not be blamed though. She had left me when I barely had memory of anything or anyone. But I remember how she smelt, the faint scent of vanilla that teased my senses was forever etched in my mind. I guess it contributed to my unhealthy addiction to vanilla scented perfumes, candle and anything there is.

“You could have stayed longer with me, Mom. I needed you, you know.” My bottom lip quivered as I