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All my life, I had always known that I was living with a borrowed heart. The little scar beside my heart was a daily reminder for me whenever I stood naked in front of the mirror. It was like the shape of a crescent moon, visibly glaring at me. It was a daily reminder that I was living with the heart of a boy who I never met but only heard about while I was finally out of the sick bed.
Somehow I couldn't bring myself to visit the family of the boy, who had given up his heart at the last minute just for me to live. Believe me when I say that I felt guilty every day of my life for that particular action of mine. But I just couldn't bring myself to meet up face to face with the family of the boy I was living with his heart.
"What do I say to them when I see them? Do I get to console them? I don't think I can stand looking them in the face when I know that a part of their son beats within me" I had complained to my mum.
"Maybe you don't have to say anything? Only seeing you and knowing that their son saved a life, even in death, is the only consolation they need," Mun said in a soft tone.
I thought about what Mum said, and somehow, she was right. Besides it was better I did what was right now and visit them than let guilt eat me up every day of my life.
One day, I picked up my car keys and drove to the address Mum had scribbled on a piece of paper for me. It was a big building in a small town, nestled in between two big mountains and guarded beautifully by nature. The streets were of cobbles and the houses were built with bricks.
"You've arrived at your destination" I heard my Google map announce while I pulled over by the walkway to this gigantic mansion.
I picked up the tiny bouquet I had with me and walked my way into the mansion. My breath was fast, and my hands were damp with anxiety.
I got to the door and took a deep breath, trying so hard to find the courage before I pressed the bell. I wondered what the face that would appear behind the door would look like, inviting or filled with pain.
I took one last deep breath, shutting my eyes; with shaky hands, I pressed the bell, and in a few minutes, the door flung open to reveal a woman in her mid-forties standing on the other side of the door. She had dark hair with little strands of grey hair, like lightning on a very dark night. She wore this inviting smile on her face
"Miriam?" She called with a soft inviting voice even before I could introduce myself.
"Yes," I muttered, surprised at the same time that she knew my name.
"Come, come in", she moved aside, allowing me to step inside a house filled with opulence and class. The kind I've never seen before in a while.
I let her shut the door first before I handed over to her the flowers I had with me. She smiled at me again which I noticed was what she did often. Then, she walked me to another room which was filled with artworks and a big portrait of a young boy who I presumed to be my donor. I felt my heart skip a beat, probably at the sight of its former home. Where it once belonged.
"Jacob?" I asked, moving closer to the portrait and staring deeply. Even though I didn't meet my donor, I was told of his name.
"Yes. And this was his favourite room in the house" the woman said, still with her inviting smile. Although her voice cracked lightly.
“He was an artist?” I asked, still staring at the artworks.
She nodded.
I turned to look her in the face, then I walked closer "Mrs..." I said, immediately remembering that I didn't know her name.
"Jacob. Mrs Jacob," she replied; I guess she read my mind. "My late husband was Jacob Snr, and my boy was Jacob Jnr", she explained.
I swallowed hard; I didn't know she had lost her husband, too.
"Mrs Jacob, I feel stupid and guilty. I mean I should have done this earlier. I just couldn't bring myself to it, and believe me, I feel this guilt within me for my actions. I'm just here to say thank you for everything. I'm alive today because of him. Sometimes I wonder if I deserved it" I said.
I watched as Mrs Jacob smiled and walked over to a table. She picked out a piece of paper, nearly folded, and handed it over to me.
"He had always wanted to do something nice for humanity after the death of his father but his life was shortened by that accident before he could get to achieve it. You needed to see the joy on his face when he agreed to be your donor. Do we all deserve all the good things that come our way? I don't know if we do, but somehow we still happen to enjoy it." She looked at his son's picture. "You were given a second chance for a reason I don't know. Enjoy every moment of it and don't live it with regret or guilt. He asked I give that letter to you. " she added, her voice filled with emotions and eyes almost tearing up.
We stood there in silence as I stared at the paper in my hands. There was so much emotion and tension in the air. When I couldn't handle it anymore I decided to take my leave.
Mrs Jacob saw me off to the door. I felt her eyes on me as I walked to my car. When I was sure she was back in her house and wasn't staring at me by the window anymore. I let the tears in my eyes flow like a loose faucet.
I quickly got into my car and tried catching my breath and composure. Then with so much courage, I opened the letter and it read
"Dear recipient,
Please, do me a favour. Visit my mum regularly, become that daughter she never had. I was all she ever had"
I folded the paper and put it away. Then I turned on the ignition and took one last look at the house before driving away. Maybe I was living with a borrowed heart, but I was glad I didn't feel guilty anymore.
I was more than ready to honour the wish in the letter.
This is heartfelt.
Visiting at the time that you did was just okay. Imagine never summoning the courage to or getting hold of that letter at a really late time. The guilt you would feel would be terrible.
This is an emotional story...its a good thing that you read the letter
A beautiful story, very well done. The letter was a very touching ending, great closure. Thank you for sharing it.
Regards @marriot5464
Thank you for always reading 😊.
Quite an emotional and captivating story bro, you hit the nail on the head bro.