Karin
The absence of my solace. That was the time I felt alone. My crying would be constant without the reassurance of his presence. He appeared out of nowhere and stayed. He provided a distraction, so I wouldn't cry. He made me genuinely forget and move on, if only a little bit each visit.
He made me happy - even if most of the time, in the beginning, I would fake a smile.
Eventually, it closed the scar I thought wouldn't be healed, if only a little bit.
That's why he was my solace.
He was the stranger who reminded me of my promise.
I used to be such a crybaby, and I vowed I wouldn't cry anymore. I kept telling myself I wouldn't and I, at one point, stopped being that crybaby.
But then I died.
Everything went down hill from a simple hollow attack. I was barely twelve, but dying at twelve wasn't my concern. A mother and her sister leaving her was my concern. My family consisting of my brother, sister and father. They wouldn't visit me everyday and when they did, they were completely miserable. I was never able to see them smile. I only remembered horrified looks when I died. All I heard were crying and screams of agony when I died.
They would visit and I never hear them speak either.
I never looked at them in the eyes, because I was too scared to approach them - especially my brother. The night I died, I broke my promise. I left my family and it hurt. They begged my corpse: "Please, stay with us!"
That was the promise I couldn't keep. I ran and hid away, not being able to face them. Father, he stared right at me when I left. He knew and he could see me. Brother, he was looking at the body without a soul. He already knew I died, but never stopped my sister from begging. Maybe, just maybe, he wanted me to answer: "I will stay."
A tear ran down my cheek. Then the next. Then more tears until I was sobbing again. The memories haunted me; thinking about it always made me cry day-in and day-out.
I hated the feeling of being so pathetic, but odd as it sounded, it was addictive too. Letting it all out, I mean. Though, it hurt even more everytime.
Something was different from all those other days I've been dead. Instead of crying the entire time, I would wipe away my tears and straighten myself up.
Then, I would wait.
I would wait just enough time for my eyes to dry out. I rid myself of negative thoughts.
My gray eyes would roam around trying to figure out which way he would appear from this time. That was the routine up until now, so I found myself searching for the boy I had met a week ago.
I spotted him; a smile formed onto lips. There the boy, claiming not to be a kid, neared my grave. His teal eyes and his white hair was a giveaway. Toshiro. Lifting my hand up, I gave a small wave. "Hey."
"Hello, Karin."
Just a little more time.
YOU ARE READING
╭Lamented╮
General Fiction"Excuse me," Toshiro managed to say. She didn't respond, but her small, frail, body jolted. The ghost looked at him with her gray, tear-filled, eyes. "H... Hello," he stuttered out. "H-hello." What was the reasoning behind him approaching this gi...