I met this guy last summer.
Yes, I admit he is cute. He has this damn too sexy smile that girls who happened to see it may faint and fall for his charms. He possesses a pair of cute green eyes that disappear whenever his lips curve upward. His voice is so beautiful and manly that I can't help but to smile whenever he speaks, whenever he says his words into a harmony so harmonious in my ears.
He told me things about himself whenever he visited us. He said he lived miles away from our place and that he was a distant relative from my father's side, that he only had the time to come and visit us during occasions like birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas, Halloween, and other.
He used to stay longer during summers though, where we used to lie under the shade of a big acacia tree, talk things over, and laugh a lot. My summer was great because of him. I could feel the bright rays of the sun every morning, the birds greeting me with their fine orchestrated tweets, the smell of flowers floating in the air and the feeling of nostalgia, of those happy days I used to spend with him and my head placed on his lap and his smiles that completed my day.
But that was almost a year ago, and this certain feeling continued to haunt me. I wanted to quench my thirst to see him, to feel his arms snaked on my waist again whenever we danced to one of his songs so full of love and magic and I was this little girl who got awestruck every time he did that.
Oh, love. That bittersweet little thing. It's so painful yet so sweet. It's what I want yet what I despise the most. I never thought I would fall for him. Love is a word so obnoxious to my ears that I can't help but to smile and blush because of it.
My sister said once that if I love a person, I must grab that opportunity, that I must choose what the best is for me. But how can I? If I can only see him during holidays and whenever there is an occasion—
I felt a pair of hands snaked on my feet, dragging me back to reality. When I looked at who it was, it was my sister.
"Why?" she uttered; her voice was full of pain and shock, blood gushing from her head.
There was a kind of forlorn confusion imminent in her eyes. Sighing, I hauled the scissor from the table and hurriedly stabbed her in the back. Her blood oozed immediately towards the floor, some smeared on my dress. Her muffled screams filled the silent room. Soon after, she was dead as meat.
I looked at her mutilated body once more as a smile crept up on my lips after.
Funerals are occasions, right? I wish this way, I'm going to see him again.
