𝙊𝙧𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝘿𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢

𝑶𝒓𝒑𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 (14)

I was gasping for breath by the time I broke away from my trance.

Huff* Huff*

I clutched my chest. I could feel the metallic taste of blood and the saltiness of tears in my mouth.

I looked down. The camera was still on my lap.

I put the camera away. I couldn't afford to look at it now.

Sorry, Okaa-san. I knew you didn't do it on purpose.

I got up. My unsteady feet took me to my room.

Before anything else, I opened my wardrobe. I stretched out my hand behind my clothes, in the innermost corner.

A little shuffling and I found it.

A box with a lock.

I went to my study table, opened a drawer, rummaged through it and found a key.

I took the key and unlocked the box.

Inside were memories.

Her memories.

A drawing of us she gave me when she was 5, a dried-out pen, a kendama, marbles, some origami we had folded together amongst other things...

But the thing that was most striking was a blood-stained bracelet.

It was that bracelet.  

I put it on my palm and ran my thumb over it. I stared at it.

The memento that was supposed to remind us of a wonderful day and a precious promise came to serve as a brand of fault and guilt.

I couldn't bear to look at it out of sorrow. And I couldn't throw it away due to attachment...

I thought of Nana's words.

How could she ask me to forget about her after what we had?

How did she say that she didn't deserve me when it was the opposite?

She deserved the world....

I paused.

Deserve.... What we had.... Regrets....

Memories...... And....

Love.

I only kept thinking about how everything was my fault and how she deserved better.

There were blunders. There were mistakes. There was pain. There was despair. There were regrets.

But was it all?

There were the times we spent together, the memories we made, the things we cherished....

And there was our love.

But did I ever tell her that?

I only ever wallowed in misery in front of her, looking pitiful. Even though she was the one who had died, I clung onto her and haunted her like a ghost.

Did I stop to think how it made her feel? And if I did, did I ask for her forgiveness?

I didn't...

She gave away her life for me. But instead of living it properly for both of us, I lived like I wanted to die.

Oh...