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v.THE BUTTERFLIES IN MY STOMACH ARE ACTIVE
(h.e.r—losing)
After I laid awake yet motionless on my bed, dishevelled cerulean coloured duvet surrounding me, soft and cozy, I decided to get off from the secureness of my bed. One week felt so excruciatingly painful, it was only Wednesday and I couldn't wait until fiery summer days come to an end.
I didn't have any friend, I thought. They seemed to disappear on their own accords, like the sun when nightfall came, like hot air when winter came. But unlike how seasons passed by yet always come back every year, I had none.
I didn't know where they were, I didn't even know if they live in the same city as me or perhaps in another city far from me. I knew that I'm alone and every day was always filled with emptiness in my heart and loneliness, trapped in an isolation called 'home'. A home without a family, ultimately just an empty house, a hollow shell.
My home didn't even feel like a home to me.
I had a long day ahead of me, I had made up my mind to visit the library once again where I hoped to encounter you. Someone was going to kill you, you said? I couldn't just stand still knowing that a person's life could be in a grave danger. I needed to be with you, I needed to stay next to you.
Felt foreign and comical to me, knowing that I had just met you and had just learned your name the day before, yet I had this urge in me to be there with you. The sense of urgency, aware that someone would kill you. It still sounded like a sick prank to me, but why would you joke something grave like that? What kind of twisted person would do such a thing?
I could see the old architecture in front of me now, the oldest building in the city, a hoary historical heritage. The only place worth visiting aside from the park. For as long as I could remember, the library was the only place most my memories could recall. Strange but I guessed most people wouldn't remember their childhood as well.
The scent of books and old papers engulfed my sense of smell, but unlike any other day I started to scan the wide-ranged room, in search for the familiar face, your face, the only face that had been tormenting my mind since Monday.
When my hope was getting thinner by the minutes and my feet were starting to ache, my lips were starting to quiver and I was desperately trying keep tears at bay. Why was I even feeling so crestfallen? Why did I feel like I just lost something valuable to me?
All of a sudden I felt so tired like the world had drained me, I was getting light-headed so I instantly crouched down and leaned on one of the bookcases, arms wrapped around my bent legs and face obscured.
Is it even true Felix is going to die? I asked myself.
I wanted to sob, scream, bawl my eyes out. I wanted to call out your name.
Felix, Felix, Felix, Felix..
Over and over again until my voice went hoarse and my throat burnt with soreness until the sun sacrificed themselves to let the moon breaths in more freely or when they finally caught up with each other and they kissed while the world stared in awe of their eclipse.
