crown [t. oikawa]

[sixteen]

⊱ ───────── ⊰

I STAY THERE. 

i emptily watch the words on father's grave dimly glimmer as the sun sets, refusing to let tears fall. not where those usually noisy spirits can see, anyways.

eventually grey clouds gather for rain to fall from the skies, a fitting mood for this occasion. it's supposed to be summer, the season of sun, but even seasons go awry sometimes.

droplets fall and splash before disappearing into a new form and the cold is beginning to arise, making its way to my skin. despite the chill settling into my bones, i remain there, hunched over the grave and frozen. 

the graveyard keeper passes by me, controlling his face in a way that it's obvious that he's trying not to show any judgements he's made. he tells me to finish giving my prayers and to hurry home.

i dully stare at him until he goes away, not responding at all because after all, what home do i have? that mansion with a crack in its wall where father killed himself? it used to be my home, but now it's just my house.

['home' doesn't exist.]

bring bring

i don't need to check the caller id to know that it's oikawa. but when i think of him, all of those genuine smiles that i treasured are easily replaced by the version i saw today with sharp words and harsh eyes. 

i swallow and remain still, not bothering to pick up the call. majority of me decides to do that because satan is right. why should me, of all people, deserve oikawa's affection? no wonder gokana is so astonished. 

a smaller, more toxic part of me decides to do so for a different reason; just to see if he'll persist until we have a conversation. 

and he does. 

it's his fourth time calling me that i decide to pick up, because i'm getting lightheaded rereading the words on father's grave as i notice titles like 'husband' and 'friend' were included, but never 'father'. so instead i turn around to lean on the grave, using it as a chair, a throne i sit upon.

because it is a throne. 

a throne erected upon my father's corpse and my mother's spirit. 

coming with it a crown, gifted at the lowest point of my life. gifted because i caused the lowest point of my life.

i exhale heavily, and in moments like these all in which reality crashes down on me, all i feel is pain. 

[not the physical kind.]

the graveyard keeper, rows down from me, looks at me in disgust as if what i'm doing is utterly disrespectful. and it is. but i don't care at this point, not when there is always obvious reminders that i've done much worse.