House of Him

Two Intervened Stories

I'm still in the moment that there's a blanket that wraps me, sitting on a stool, a guitar on my lap and a parchment on my hand.

After I sang that last verse I know I'm ready to confess. The song came to an end and his guitar stopped.

It was 2:40 in the morning. I folded the parchment and put it in my pocket. I gazed in the void of the night sky and had glimpsed of a falling star. I know his waiting on what I would say.

"You know what Herald? I'm afraid I feel the same too." I said still staring at the sky with a little smile on my face.

"But I can't stay here." I said sadly. Wish nothing change. Most of people change when someone confess a feeling to them, that's what I'm sick of.

He wrote, "Me neither. I can't stay here forever. . . I just need my memory of how I died."

I don't know if he's agreeing with me or disappointed. "And if you get your memories back?" I ask, thinking if I should or shouldn't show him the knife.

The knife.

He wrote, "If that happened, I can fade away, be free with the pain I feel each day."

Then he draw a happy face with just 1 curved line and 2 dots. It's a happy face, but you know there is pain.

"What pain." I ask.

"Every day that I stay here, the more pain I feel. It's like killing me each day. That's why I'm thankful you came. At least things get lightly to bare." He wrote.

"I can visit, maybe once a month to help you. Why didn't you tell me?" I suggest having a hidden empathy for him.

"I think I prefer this way, you and me singing and talking." He wrote.

What he wrote next touches my heart. He wrote in uppercases, "I DON'T NEED MY MEMORY, I JUST NEED YOU."

I don't know what he mean so I ask "What do you mean".

Gladly, he has the guts on writing.

He explain solely, "If I find out my memories, I'll fade away along with the pain and I'm gonna lose you. We'll never gonna meet each other. AGAIN."

My heart melts.

"What your thinking gonna cost much much pain. We need to get your memory back." I said madly on the sky.

Part of me saying he needs to go, part of saying I love him so much. I don't know what to do, I can't bare each day knowing his pain adds up.

He wrote, "I know."

"But incase one of these days I'll find my memory, I don't wanna leave you without something." He add.

"I got something for you." He wrote again.

I'm shocked and excited. What should I expect he'll give me?

An envelope hovers toward me. A vintage envelope. I guess it's kind of letter or card or something.

'For Bella' was written on the front.

I opened it. I didn't expect it but it's the most beautiful gift. It was a ring. The ring was gold, and has a little design.

As I see the designs, it was leaves and looked so familiar. Then a melody from his guitar came. I wear the ring wandering why this is familiar.

*Gasp*

MY GRANDMA.

I think I saw one of these from my grandma's. It's quite identical.

I'm not quite sure.

I didn't notice that my eyes shed a tear. I got a huge realization while he plays this beautiful melody.

If what I'm thinking is true, that he and my grandma is an old lover. And the M&H carve on the tree means Morgan & Herald.

It must've took him decades in this house. The pain he has must've been unendurable. Painful.

The tears in my eyes flows.

I'm stuck on showing him the knife and let him fade away. Or I'll do anything to make him stay.

I beam a smile to show him I'm happy with his little present.

I think it's right to let him go even I'm not ready. I just need to show him the knife. And if it doesn't work, let time flow.

Let the time flow.

Then I ask him to wait for a minute, I'll be getting something in the room so he don't have to follow me. I get back to the balcony holding something wrapped by a piece of fabric.

I ask him to open it, and he did. Slowly.

It was the old rusty knife I found on the woods.

And the hovering guitar drops and a blow of wind creeps the surrounding. And I feel coldness on my lips. I feel his lips on it.

I know that moment, that I just lost another person I truly loved. It was 3:00 am.

I literally weep like a child. My eyes won't stop shedding a tear.

* * * * *
Week later -a stressful week,- I decide to clean the house where I live. Surprisingly, I found a small chest on my grandma's wardrobe.

I opened it, and found the identical ring. I knew it.

There is also letters. I picked the one on top, it must be the last letter they have.

"
7-13-1941,

Morgan.

I'll wait until our next song to sing and next melody to play.

Herald.
"

It's the same handwriting and same person. It's like his talking directly to me at the moment I read it.

Since that day, I always wear the ring as a reminder of two intervened stories.