BLACK ROSE

Six years

Alex.

Another 365 days have passed by too fast.

Marking the sixth anniversary.

Yet it feels like yesterday. I still see the crushing scene when I close my eyes. I still hear the sounds and see the bright colours. My chest tightens the exact same way it did that day.

Even after six years I still haven't moved on. Some things you cannot move on from. They're forever piercing in your heart, like thorns of a rose, causing it to bleed.

A million years could pass by, and nothing would change. Nothing would turn back the time and erase my mistakes. Erase the one deadly mistake and save me from this guilt. Same us all from this fate.

The night turns to day, the moon disappears, and the sun rises. The exchange creates a beautiful colour scheme, but I can't really appreciate it. The colours seem plain to me.

Today I can't appreciate anything.

A chilly breeze embraces me in a quick hug for a snippet of a moment. I've been sitting on this rooftop for hours. Avoided sleep and stared down at the city. Thought about it all over again and again.

The window behind me opens and closes. Silent huffled sounds echo around me for a while, then Ace's frame takes a seat next to me. Without saying anything he hands me a bottle of soju. I stare at the green bottle in my hands, feeling it's heavier than usual.

We don't cheer, we don't even open the bottles for a long time.

In silence we sit together and stare at the awaking city.

After six years I shouldn't be reliving the same day every year when this date shows up in the calendar. Six years are a long time to learn how to move on, to find ways to cope. I suppose I've found ways to cope with the pain, they just never were any efficient. They never worked.

After six years I should've matured enough to face the past and the pain. But I'm still an immature child, a coward at heart.

Ace opens his bottle and I copy his action. The liquid tastes sweet at first, only sweet. Then the soft aftertaste follows, still being relatively gentle. I understand perfectly why he loves it.

"Is she awake?" I break the silence.

"Yeah."

He doesn't have to say more. It's enough to imagine her sitting in the living room, in her comfortable armchair, in complete darkness staring ahead of her with a glass of red wine on the coffee table. Surrounded by her own thoughts filling the early morning silence and trapped in her own guilt.

She doesn't deserve it. She never deserved the pain she had to endure, the pain she goes through every year. The pain that will be haunting her for the rest of her life.

"Sarah hasn't been asking any questions?"

I shake my head, then realise he can't see me properly. "No, but she'll start soon. There'll come a day and we'll have to tell her the truth." We can't keep on feeding her white lies forever. Though I wish to, it'll only do her worse.

"Don't tell her yet. You're not ready for that."

"I don't want to tell her ever." And I wonder if I'll ever be ready to tell. How can one prepare for that truth?

"You'll have to one day," he points out with a deep sigh. "One day even Jake will have to know the truth."

"It shouldn't be like this."

"No, it shouldn't."

We shouldn't be sitting here now. This conversation shouldn't be taking place. There should exist no reason for it to be happening.