Author's lie. The worlds we create using only a keyboard, or pen and paper, don't and will never truly exist. What you've been reading was only a figuration of my imagination, no matter how real or imaginative it seemed.
If she were still here now, I wonder what I would say. Would I throw this piece of fiction at her and ask if I came anywhere near the truth.
What was her truth?
I can write about the feeling of her in my arms all I want, and it will never actually happen. But this was all I had. The unknown was killing me, so I made up lies.
What would her smile have been like? What would her laugh sound like? What would it be like to kiss her? Would her skin feel warm?
These are all questions I ask myself. Though my love for her was never a lie, her love for me was. Could I have taught her to love me? I haven't the slightest clue.
But since you've read this far, you deserve to know the truth:
It was the summer of my first year in high school, where I found the lifeless body of the woman I grew to love on her dorm room floor.
If only that giraffe rug really existed, then maybe my lie could've been my truth.
-Sincerely the author of this bittersweet tale, Sato Matsubara
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Scars || T. Oikawa Spin-off
FanficYou were a beacon of light. One that gave me strength. You called me your best friend, so in turn, I called you that as well. We really were inseparable. It was us against the world. Nothing could touch me when you were by my side. But now you'r...
