the 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝘿𝙎 of the 𝘾𝙇𝙊𝙒𝙉

「 eight 」

If I were to die . . . I want to be alone.
I have lived alone, thus I'll die alone.

I want to die where the crows are going to sing me a happy song.
I want my deathbed on an isolated land—
where the beautiful trees, fertile lands, and growing flowers are.

I want my flesh to be withered on the surface,
where my remnants will be perceived by some strangers.

I want to die where no one is mourning for me.
I want to die where no one can remember me.
Non-existent. No identity. Nothing.

I'm actually tired.
I want to close my eyes without opening them up again.

I can't say things. I'm afraid to speak for myself.
Friends? Family? Not enough.
They will never understand and I don't want them to know.

I will just wait for the time when my own death speaks for myself.
But how can I, though?

I'm already dead by then.

Those were the words that had left astray on my mind as I walked on the long . . . very, very long, dark road. I had walked a lot of miles—a hundred, even . . . If I could count well.

The heavens, might as well as the hell, had known how much a mess I became.

I am lonely. I am frightfully lonely. If I would describe myself now, then I felt like I was standing upon a solitary star, looking at the dark, empty world. I became so bored just staring at the black space. The world was just a sea of nothingness. An indistinctive world.

And humans . . . Ah, don't get me started.

I had left home. I had no intention of going back again. Well, actually, I had. I wanted to take some of my dolls in that house. I would surely miss Yanna and Sofia. Or Yanna would be enough. But I didn't want to. I was very sure that I wouldn't be welcomed there again.

Of course, my father would cut the ties between us. By means of school tuition, allowances, and the whatnots. Thus, it was way better to wander on the streets than living on that raggy house.

But walking miles and miles away was really, really tiring. I couldn't feel my legs that much. I was thirsty and hungry. I even hadn't gotten myself asleep.

It was the darkest time of the night. I had no idea what was the exact time. But since the gibbous moon had reached approximately 130° angle on the west orientation, then I could presume that it was more or less one o'clock in the midnight.

I sighed, continuously walking. Where am I, though? I led myself on the road I wasn't familiar with. I walked alone on the deserted rural road. The wind blew and whispered through me. The wind was there, but never spoke to me.

I must be really out of my mind. Who would do such as crazy thing as this? Leaving without a direction . . . Money, too.

All I had is my damned self. My worthless self.

The wilderness beside me was something that I had never experienced before. It seemed like the time was moving so slow. I felt so nauseated and weak. My body couldn't bear the exhaustion any longer and my spirit was about to fail as well. 

Each minute felt like an eternity. With my pathetic self, time remained moving around me. Anger lingered me up, but all I ought to do was to endure the pain and hold back my tears.

Unconsciously, I fell down on the ground with a satisfying thud. I landed on my face and tasted the bitter and earthy taste of the soil, but I managed to turn around so that I could stare at the night sky.