Can You Hear Me ― Kim Jongin

f i f t e e n

Sitting down on the damp wooden bench just a few meters away from her grandfather's grave she cried with the company of the soft evening breeze.

Grandpa, why must you leave me so early? You were the only one who heard my non-existing voice. And now I'm back to square one trying to throw the dice and see where my fate would fall to.

"Here take this. You need this. And it seems like I'm being your savior since you're so forgetful." Jongin said as he passed her a soft pastel blue coloured paper bag that contained her memo pads, pens, a handkerchief and a cup of chocolate bubble tea.

Wiping her tears with the end of her sleeves, she took the bag and took out the memo pad and pen.

"It just hurts."

"I'm sorry. I kinda crossed the line."

"It's fine. It's normal for me."

Reading that reply, he felt a bit stabbed. He didn't reply and the both of them just stared into the distance as time passed by while they stayed in the graveyard on that breezy evening.