Whispers Of What Was

I: Chronicles of Woe and Wonder

April 13th, 2015

I've been scrambling—selling off everything I own, draining my savings, doing whatever it takes to pay my mom back. She's been through so much because of me, always picking up the pieces when I've messed up.

But the guilt... it's unbearable.

Every time I hand over another bit of cash, thinking it might make things right-that it might make me feel better—it doesn't. There's always this weight, pressing down on me, reminding me of all the times I failed her, of the mess I've made of everything. No matter how much I give, it never feels like enough. Nothing will ever be enough.

I keep wondering if there's any way to fix it all. To stop being such a burden. And the only answer that makes sense... is leaving.

I walked south to the bridge today, just standing there, staring at the edge. I thought about what it'd feel like to let go, to let the wind carry me over. I saw myself on the railing, feeling the cold metal under my hands, leaning forward, waiting for something—anything—to push me, but in reality, I'm just looking over the edge watching the river flow, Fireworks were going off in the distance.

And for a moment, I thought—maybe I'm not ready to let go. Not yet.

So, I turned around and walked home.

As I slowly walked back. The night was everywhere, filling the air with a deep, aching loneliness., it felt like something inside of me was reaching out for something, longing for something, yet I couldn't quite find whatever it was that I was longing for. Was it a need for a connection? For friends? Or was it something deeper-a longing for myself?

When I got back, I went straight upstairs, marked today on my torn-up calendar, and collapsed onto the floor. Sleep pulled me under before I had a chance to think about anything else.

April 14th

The next morning, I woke up to the quiet clink of dishes. I headed downstairs and sat at the dining table with my mom and little sister. We ate in silence as usual, But something was different Today: My mom had this strange grin on her face.

"Why are you smiling?" I asked, unable to shake the feeling that something was coming.

Without a word, she pulled out the envelope. The one filled with the money I'd given her.

"I'm proud of you," she said softly. "You worked hard for this, and you even sold everything you had."

A short yet long pause lingered between us, and then her voice dropped along with the smile.

"Taro... why were you trying to kill yourself?"

Her words hit like a punch to the gut. I froze, my mind scrambling, trying to figure out what to say. I opened my mouth to explain, to deny it, to say anything—but she cut me off.

"I knew it. I knew something was wrong," she said, her voice shaking. "Your room is empty, your phone's disconnected, and that damn calendar of yours—it's all torn apart after April."

Suddenly, she stood up and walked to the stove. She turned the burner on, and the flame flickered to life. Then, she held the envelope over it, her hands were trembling.

"If you don't promise me—right here, right now—that you won't kill yourself, I'll burn it. All of it."

My heart pounded. I dropped to my knees, my voice barely a whisper. "I promise," I said, unsure of whether I meant it or not. "I promise won't do it."

But it was too late. The fire reached the edge of the envelope, and the bills inside caught flame.

We both lunged for it, trying to extinguish the fire, but it was too late. Within moments, the money was ash.