This is a short story of a girl named Naia who one day wakes up with her mind empty of memories, almost buried within the ruins of a broken city on a lightning-lit night.
for my moa of a sister that is turning 19
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Anguished cries echo to every corner of the endless space where there once stood Beomgyu and the apartment door. Now, Naia finds herself stepping towards a large garden filled with purple and white pansies. They're packed in the shape of a curved rectangle like two circles attached by parallel lines.
The beautiful view does not do much to distract her from the sound of the cries. Whilst one end of the garden is empty of people, the other holds two: one sitting in a chair, teeming with vines of lilac flowers tangled around the wooden seat and the body itself. She can only see the back of the body, but from where she stands she can see that they are dressed in white, with a purple flower crown on their head.
And they're not moving. At all.
She turns her focus to the second body and realizes with a start that their shoulders are heaving and their hands are grasped onto the body's legs, shaking them viciously.
Naia snaps out of her stupor and runs.
One second she's on black, and the next she's trampling on petals and stems, an unknown emotion propelling her towards the person.
"Hey, hey!" Soon her steps are being slowed by a stream of viscous purple liquid sticking to the soles of her boots with sickening squishes. She's confused but doesn't stop to examine it, her focus remaining on the scene ahead.
As she nears the person, she notices that it's a young boy, maybe even younger than her, with tears streaming down his cheeks like waterfalls. She realizes with a pang that he feels like déjà vu too, and it doesn't help her situation at all because seeing him bawling makes her heart break and she barely knows why.
"Hey," she reaches behind the chair and almost hesitates before her feet splash in a puddle of shimmering white and lavender, surrounding the chair like its own pond. The boy barely pays attention to her as she falls to his side, knees drenching in the liquid as she tries to pull his arms away from the stony legs.
At first, he's incredibly confused, wondering how the hell a stranger has made their way to him, but his hands are gripped onto the body like his life depends on it, not letting into Naia's pulls.
"What- stop it, let go?" The boy, despite his sobs, manages to choke out a few desperate words as she continues to pull him away. "Stop it- stop!"
Naia shakes her head, holding his arms with a steel grip, still trying to pull him away. Inside, she doesn't know the reason why she's doing this either. There's something so devastating about seeing this boy like this, and the fact that he is probably hurting whoever is sitting so still in the chair.
"Hyung! Hyung, wake up, please, please," every word that falls from his lips is tainted with agony, and the phrase 'wake up' scares Naia, it scares her because she's afraid of what she'll see if she turns around.
"You have to let go!" she tries, begging him to let up without letting go. "Please."
"No, no, you don't get it, get off!" The boy cries, his tears sliding off his skin and onto Naia's arms. The liquid is cold in comparison to the lukewarm liquid their clothes are soaking in, and it makes her heart ache even more.
