SIKLUS

(Jasmine Andara RS NST)

the door opens with a sickening screech. Dread weighs my shoulders, like the entire
worlds troubles had laid upon me. It has been ten years since I’ve lost my wife and daughter. I
am now forty-six years old. An office worker, underpaid.

I can no longer afford the old house ever since I went bankrupt. I now live in this dingy
apartment, so tiny you’d probably die from suffocation. An overwhelmingly competitive city, I
cannot keep up. Usually, my family would be the one emotionally supporting me. But now they
ceased to be.

People had told me, ’Friedrich, you are grieving too long, it’s time to move on.’

But how can I? My only family, gone.

And so is my will to live.

My gaze landed upon the stack of bills I’ve been postponing to pay. My boss is awfully
stingy. He often holds back our pay until the next month, working us to death. There had been
multiple instances where my coworkers would send a report to the HR Department. However, it
has been over five months now, a reply would be overdue.

I never liked working there anyways. But I need to keep myself afloat somehow.

I dig through the fridge, opening a can of beer. I sat down on the old couch that came
with the apartment, flipping through channels on TV, as an old memory plays in my head.

‘Papa, I want to watch my cartoons, can you put them on, please?’ Anna exclaims,
jumping on the couch, sitting beside me.

‘It’s late mein liebling, you have school tomorrow..’ I scolded softly, picking her up and
heading to her room, she squirms in my hold for a moment before finally giving in as I tuck her
in bed.

‘Fine…but papa, can you read me a bedtime story..? I want to hear a story I’ve never
heard before!’

‘Is that so? But you’ve read all the stories here…’ I reply. Then, an idea pops into my
head, ‘why don’t I buy you a new story book? We can read it together!’ Anna nods excitedly. I
kiss her forehead, leaving her room to sleep.
 In a fit of emotions, I threw the can towards the TV. I threw it so hard, the screen
cracked. My fingers tangled into my hair as I gripped it, I let out a choked sob, and a pathetic cry
escapes my lips.

“My daughter, my dearest daughter…”

“Please forgive your papa…” I never got to read her the new story I bought.

The next day was more or less the same. I wake up in the morning, my eyelids swollen
from yesterday’s breakdown and a killer hangover. How many cans was it last night? Five?
Seven? Perhaps somewhere in between.

I enter the bathroom, doing my usual routine. It’s quiet. Too quiet, I feel like I’m slowly
losing my mind. I stare at my reflection on the stained mirror, brushing my teeth. I look like a
mess. Even after a bath. I held back the urge to punch the mirror out of pure frustration.

I walked out of my apartment, walking through the narrow hallway. I have successfully
avoided meeting my landlady by taking the emergency stairs. Each time I pass the main stairs, I
have a sick frightened feeling, which made me grimace and feel ashamed. I am hopelessly in
debt to my landlady.

It was not because I am cowardly and browbeaten, quite the contrary. I was self-
absorbed in my grief, has made me push everyone away, isolating myself. Not only that I
dreaded meeting my landlady but also anyone at all. I am crushed by devastation and
depression, but even the anxieties of my position has recently ceased to weigh upon me.

Arriving at my office, I settled down in to my cubicle, starting up the computer to do my

work for the day.

A few hours in, my horrible boss then slams paper work into my desk angrily.

“Mr. Beilschimdt, how many times do I have to tell you...” he takes a dramatic deep
breath.

“-to fix this mistake! Every time I hand it over to you, it’s always the same mistake all
over again. Are you so incompetent that you can’t fix it!?” I tuned out the rest of his lecture.
There was nothing wrong with what I did. He was simply too dumb to realize it.

“-you know what? From this day on, Friedrich Beilschimdt, you’re fired!” my head shot
up and my heart dropped. He then slammed the perfectly made documents into the ground,
leaving me to collect my thoughts in silence.
 I exit the office building, a box full of my items in hand. I began my dreadful walk back
towards my apartment.

While walking, I had passed by a flower shop. The familiar scent made memories flood
my brain.

‘Catherine…’ I gaze at her, the beautiful red dress that etched too deep into my memory.
I hand her a bouquet of her favorite flowers, she gasped at the sight of them.

‘Friedrich…thank you so, so much..’ her sweet smile fills me with joy, I want nothing but
to make sure that smile stays for the rest of our lives.

‘..that isn’t the only gift I have for you’ I then get down on one knee. Before I could utter
the words, she jumps around in joy, screaming ‘yes!’

The scent of the flowers made me nauseous. I speed up my walking continuing my

journey.

As I close the door behind me, I slid down to the floor.

“My wife...”

“Please, forgive this fool of your husband” I can no longer afford her flowers.

It’s past ten; I sat by myself on bench outside my apartment. It was too suffocating
inside, yet it was too cold outside. My chest felt tight, my ears were ringing. My heart was
beating so fast it felt like bursting, there was a knot in my throat, the world around me spins. I
was sweating profusely, yet shivering. I can’t breathe, I feel like pulling on my hairs.

Loneliness is painful. So painful, I have thought of killing myself so many times. Yet, I
could never muster up the courage. I shake, letting out pained breaths, as painful memories
flood my brain. Grief was the bane of my existence. A strangled cry rips out of my throat; I
could not stop the tears falling down my face. I can’t let go, I can’t.

If I can’t let go, then I cannot heal. But how can I heal if it means to forget? I don’t want
to. I love them so, so much. The light of my life, my only reason to not give up. But they’re
gone, never to return. Then how can I stop this pain? What price shall I have to pay, for a sliver
of a moment, for happiness?

“Hey, here, take some water...” a muffled voice was heard. I don’t know what they said,
but their gentle tone and the feeling of a cold plastic bottle placed into my hand slowly fades
away the horrors eating up the back of my brain.
 With trembling hands I open the bottle of water, chugging it down my throat. Even if it
made my dry throat feel better, it did nothing to soothe my nerves.

“Do you feel at least a little better now?” the stranger asked, sitting down beside me.

“I think so, danke…” I reply, my voice coming out scratchy.

“Bitte. I’m glad you’re alright” the stranger sighed in relief. He then looked at me, his
eyes widened in disbelief.

“Ah! I know you, Friedrich Beilscmidt, right? Do you remember me, Ludwig Wurm?”
Ludwig gazes at me with a warm smile. Through some thinking, I nodded. He was my old
classmate.

“…how are you holding up, Freddy?” he mutters, rubbing my back to calm me. I shook
my head, letting out a shaky breath.

There was a moment of silence, Ludwig is a wise friend. Very skilled at reading the room
and social cues, knowing where to lead conversations and figure people’s feelings with one
look. It didn’t take him a minute to realize what I was dealing with.

“…Freddy, I don’t know if it’s my place to tell you this, but...”

“To let go, it doesn’t always mean forgetting.” he says, leaning back against the
backrest. My breath hitched.

“Death is a natural cycle. This life we all have, it’s our first and last. You can’t really do
anything about it, you know?” he gives me a small smile.

“Losing and winning, grief and happiness; It’s all part of this cycle, this is how god
intended nature to be. It’s alright, the pain is normal. That’s what you need to accept” I look
down at my hands. Tears are welling up again.

Ludwig pats my back, letting me cry.

It’s now three in the morning. I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. I am exhausted,
mentally and physically. The panic attack worn me out by a lot. Ludwig’s words echo in my
head. He was right. For ten years, I have never accepted the fact that death is normal. This is
what life is, it doesn’t discriminate, man or woman, adult or child. If you live then you die.

I hold these memories too close to my heart. But I need to let go. Forget the bad ones,
smile through the nice ones. Embrace the pain that we feel losing or sacrificing something and
the cycle of life that comes with it. It’s okay to not feel okay.
 I close my eyes, feeling the slumber finally overtaking me.

Around after lunch the next day, I have decided to go to the library. If I wanted to get
my life back together, I should go and read more. Gather information, maybe perhaps that way
I can find way to make money.

Months and months of studying finally paid off, I now have a stable income as a small
business owner. It was a struggle, but it reminded me of my youth. It felt fulfilling. So utterly
fulfilling. It has been a long time since I have felt so happy before.

It has been another ten years since then. I feel happy and fulfilled. I now live in the
countryside, away from the bustling city, slowly but surely, I have rebuilt my life back together. I
get by on selling crops and making quality bread. Baking was something I have considered doing
for a long, long time ago, but never had the time. I now have hobbies; things that make me feel
joy, and most importantly, a family.

I now have a pet dog named Blackie, a German Shepard. He is my only family. I have
now accepted that this is what life is, about losing and gaining, destroying and building. But
despite all of the ups and downs, the most important thing is acceptance.

Accepting that it’s a cycle of give and take, being grateful of what you have, and to not
just waste it on what happened in the past.

SYNOPSIS

In which a middle aged man, burdened by the grief of losing his family, loses his will to
live along with it. During a panic attack late at night after losing his job, he meets an old friend,
who gives him some words of advice. But will he follow through it?