For one, I wanted to know what people would feel when I die. I was wishing I could hear what they would say about me, perhaps know if they liked me when I was alive and they didn't want me dead. If I knew I could, I would not have asked for it. Listening to people in their prayers, or while they are just talking to each other, makes me sick. I just want to go back to the life I lived, maybe even live a better life.
It is difficult to take a glance at one's pain and realize it's your fault because you did nothing. What could be worse than taking in that maybe they are hurting because just everything went wrong? I wondered how many times I've hurt for people. Now, I'm questioning myself how many people have hurt for me.
Walking one day in a park is not a huge deal but for a person who once could feel the breeze and touch people, I guess it is. I could still hear, though. And see. If hearing and seeing are good things, sometimes after being thrown to this unknown place, I wish I don't have such abilities.
It was still summer but the weather confuses me every now and then; it was a cold day. It was apparent, what with the fog enveloping the place and for a moment, I could almost feel it embracing my being.
My sister was sitting on a bench one Tuesday morning. She didn't bring anything when I am utterly sure that whenever she goes, she has a bag or a purse. Looking like a lost puppy, she was moving her feet back and forth, sitting on the middle swing. It seemed more like she was dragging her feet while she mindlessly looked around.
I focused on the girl in front of me. Her eyes made her seem to not know what she was doing. Her eyes were red and it was evident she was about to cry. I wanted to reach out to her, maybe even hug her but when I tried to, my arms just hugged itself.
When I was a child, I always told her that we will find each other when we are lost. To play hide and seek as a child meant concealing ourselves from each other and letting the "it" find the players. We were so young back then that the game was a big deal. Every time, we tried to be really inconspicuous.
Some time, I managed to hide perfectly my sister could not find me. She roamed around without noticing I was behind her all along. I knew I was the winner until she started to sob and cried, "I thought we're going to find each other! I can't see you now!"
I was acting brave, trying not to tear up at the sight of my sister crying. I am almost as young as she is but she is younger. "I'm right behind you, silly," I told her.
Now that no one sees me, I would have been proud of myself for being invisible. I could do anything. That would be totally fascinating. Everything about me now would have been good things but even if until I tell her I am here, I am gone. I might see her, hear her sobs, but I couldn't do anything for her.
I was not a bad child. Sometimes, maybe, but I tried to be the best of who I am. I do remember asking the heavens why I was breathe to life when I am being stubborn but I did not wish for death.
Seeing my sister, crying in front of me, I am useless. Even though she can't see me, I wish she would know I was there. I wanted her to feel me. I wanted her to know that I'm still here.
But I was invisible because I was dead.
