Mila Reagen

It was 20 years ago when I realized that thoughts have their own time. No matter how tired I was from work, it would somehow find its way to haunt me.

It was 9:00 p.m., and my husband, Zack, was sleeping in our room while I sat on a chair by the balcony in the living room, gazing at the night sky.

It became a routine of mine, even when I was abroad working at a hotel, that once the clock struck nine in the evening, I would sit by the window to watch the view as I let those thoughts drown me. Eventually, I would zone out for a few minutes before snapping out of my trance.

I wondered how long I was supposed to endure this deadly fear. It had occurred since I was 15, and by the time I reached 18, the thoughts had gradually worsened. Did I try to find ways to cope with my worries? Yes, but it didn't work, and I decided to give up fighting these thoughts.

I glanced at the picture frame I held, and tears automatically formed in my eyes. It was a picture of me when I was thirteen, with my parents and brother standing before the Christmas tree. Back then, my sense of time had stopped. It meant that even though our age kept adding up, in my mind, our appearance would never change, and we would continue to live this life forever without the possibility of dying.

Oh, how naive I was, and even now. I'm in my 50s, while my parents are in their 80s. Despite how much I wanted to resist growing old, I couldn't do anything to stop it. Time would keep moving, forcing us to finish our remaining year quickly.

"I can't believe I'm not 16 anymore." I thought as my rage boiled over. Why was I forced to go through this against my will? How was I supposed to deal with the fact that my parents would die soon?

"Mom?" I tightened my grip on the picture frame, snapping out of my thoughts after hearing my daughter's voice. I lifted my head to see her walking towards me with a concerned look.

It took me a while to regain my composure, as I was still not totally out of it. Once I felt like I was back in reality, I smiled. "Alorah? Is everything alright?" I asked as she stopped a few steps away from where I sat.

"I should be the one asking you that, mom. Are you okay? You looked like you had a lot on your mind," she asked worriedly.

My smile widened while reaching out to her, and said, "Come here, sweetheart."

Alorah placed her hand on mine, and I gently pulled her to me, sitting her down on my lap. I watched as her head immediately rested on my shoulder.

I can't believe my baby is all grown up. Back then, Alorah was just a toddler. She was smiling when she sat on my lap, telling me stories when the three of them were hanging out in the playground. Now that she's all grown up, she's ready to explore the world and be in a relationship.

"Mom, what were you thinking a while ago? You looked so tired as you were staring at the picture," Alorah pointed out, and I unconsciously began patting her back.

"Life in general. You don't have to worry about it. I wouldn't want to burden you with them," I said, taking in every detail of her face. What I noticed about Alorah, ever since I came back home, was how different she became.

She was still as lively as ever, but something was different. I noticed how quiet she had gotten when I thanked her for being supportive. When she excused herself a while ago to go to the bathroom, she was slumped against the wall, tears streaming down her face as she held her head. I was about to intervene when Julian beat me to it.

"How about you, honey? Are you alright? Anything bothering you lately?" I turned the tide around. I immediately felt how tense her body had become. It was a general question, yet the response was strong.

She didn't say anything for a moment, and I was about to drop it when I noticed her mouth opening a little.

"I... I have these thoughts that bother me whenever I'm lying in my bed, about to fall asleep," Alorah said slowly, and I could see the wheel in her head turning as she tried to think of what to say next.

"What thoughts are bothering you at this kind of time?"

"The thought of dying one day and leaving this world, not knowing where I'm going to be next," she responded, and I didn't know if I was supposed to be shocked.

Alorah's already 17, so it wouldn't be a surprise for her to have these thoughts. I wish she didn't have them because I know how painful they are.

I adjusted my sitting position when I felt a slight ache on the back of my waist while wrapping my arms around my daughter to stop her from attempting to get off my lap.

I should have sat up properly before pulling her down. Oh, my old waist.

"Sweetheart, when did it start?"

"Umm.. maybe when I was 13 or 15?" she guessed before continuing, "Is this... normal?"

I didn't answer as I was processing how her thoughts started at the same age as mine. I guessed my silence made her nervous since she began fidgeting with her fingers.

I placed my hand on her shoulders and massaged them, easing the build-up tension.

"Yes, it is normal. So, you don't have to worry about going through this alone," I replied before taking a deep breath. I never thought this day would come for me to share my experiences with my child.

Though this topic was something I wanted to avoid mentioning, for my daughter's sake, I will do it if it means making her feel like she has someone she can depend on whenever these thoughts occur again.

"I was 15 when I had these thoughts. Before going to bed, we usually imagine ourselves in a scenario. It would be full of happy thoughts and imagination, like being with your crush, then going on dates, having a wedding, and starting a family. It would end with all of us gathered in one place, full of joy and laughter as we bonded. But one night, the imagination was different from the usual ones. It started the same way, but the ending will be your grandparents growing old and lying in that small, dark coffin. Then I would imagine myself lying there, unsure whether I would still be conscious even when my soul was hovering over my body. Where will I go? What happened to my parents? I would often question that."

It was Alorah's turn to draw circles around my hand as she snuggled deeper into my neck. I couldn't help but find the gesture adorable since she's like a child. Yet, I'm thankful since it kept me from letting my mind wander too far into that memory.

"After that, the thought would appear ten times in a month. It usually happens whenever I have nothing occupying my mind, but the fear worsened when I turned 18. My heart would ache and begin beating rapidly, and I felt lightheaded as I lay in bed. Tears would stream down my face, and my throat would get clogged up, making it difficult for me to breathe. It would get unbearable to the extent that I slept in my parents' room a few times since having someone with me helped keep these thoughts at bay.

It then started to manifest in my daily life, which affected my mood and how I responded to the people around me. I would secretly cry and disguise it as a yawn. Sometimes, my surroundings felt like they weren't real. It was like being in a simulation or a webtoon. Everyone was just there, playing their roles in helping me fulfill mine. After having that sort of thinking, whenever I look around, it's like my mind has detached itself from my body or this world." I looked over to see Alorah in deep thought. Not wanting to shock her, I drew circles on her arm to slowly ease her back into reality.

I hated telling her all of these things, but part of me felt that she was at that age where she needed to know that everyone's life has an ending. She and I weren't exempt from that.

Once I knew she had returned, I patted her head gently and smiled at her. She stared at me with an unreadable expression before wrapping her arms around my neck. I moved my hand to her back and gave it a gentle tap, comforting her as best I could. I knew it was a lot to take in, and adding my dark thoughts to hers wasn't helping.

"Did grandma and grandpa know you were struggling?" I almost missed her question because of how softly she said it, but thankfully I didn't since it made me chuckle.

"Yes, honey. Do you know what your grandma said to me when I told her? She said that I was crazy for thinking about this stupid kind of thing at such a young age. Your grandfather wasn't helping when he kept mentioning that his eyes were going to close one day," I said, trying to lighten the mood even though it wasn't funny. I knew it didn't help when her arms were tightening around me.

We remained in this position for some time, and I was about to return to my thoughts when Alorah spoke up again.

"Mommy."

"Yes, Alorah?"

"Thank you for telling me. Thank you for letting me know that I'm not alone. I love you so much," Alorah said softly.

"I love you too, Alorah."