Emily Unity
We met where souls go to whisper—
in the quiet halls of the Children’s Campus,
Melbourne sun kissing the windows,
and sorrow folding into silence.
I was just a patient,
a tangle of thoughts,
a shadow of myself.
She—
she was the light.
Holding a broken child
like she held the sky—
soft hands, steady heart.
Compassion wasn’t a word in her—
it was a presence.
I never spoke to her,
only dreamed of the day I would.
She moved like stillness wrapped in kindness.
Her eyes were galaxies of grace.
One summer afternoon,
I sat beside the Parramatta River,
the breeze stitching pieces of me back together,
until I felt—
steps behind.
I turned.
She stood there—
baby blue jacket,
eyes like home.
“Emily?” I breathed,
my voice unsure if it was real.
“I’m here to see you,” she said.
“You’ve been in my mind.”
“But you’ve lived in mine too,” I whispered.
She smiled,
touched my face,
kissed my forehead—
and in that kiss,
I found heaven.
We walked—
hand in hand along the river’s edge,
words dancing between us like birds.
It felt like being seen
for the first time.
It felt like being loved
without apology.
Then—
she missed a step.
A slip.
A scream swallowed by water.
I ran,
shouting her name,
watching the river take her.
Just like that.
Gone.
No trace.
No body.
Only silence,
echoing in my bones.
They searched.
I searched.
But Emily Unity became
a name the river won’t return.
Was she real?
Was she a ghost sent to heal me?
A figment of madness,
or a fragment of grace?
I don’t know.
All I know
is that love visited me
in a baby blue jacket—
and vanished
with the tide.
Copyright ©
Chanda Katonga
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