Chapter 1

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The only thing I need to remember is you.

You are the one that I can't forget, whatever happens, I must remember you.

You are the only one with the answers.

Wherever you are, wait for me...

But who are you...?

***

The room was cold and filled with a deep slumber of silence while he was listening to the soft rain ticking against the window as if it was an old friend coming by asking him how he was doing, the rain was the tears of heaven.

Sometimes even heaven needed to cry, after all, tears are the words of our heart that we can't put out into words.

His long fingers slowly crawled over the silky soft fabric of the old notebook and for one time his expression was as blank as his mind used to be, as if he was between heaven and earth, somewhere in connection.

A soft blow of the cold winter air touched his face and played with his hair the moment he closed his eyes.

He remembered someone saving him the moment he wanted to die the most, although the face was blurred somehow he managed to remember the warm blossoming feeling as if it was summer inside his chest whenever his hand touched the other persons.

He could remember his smile that was like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day and above all, he could remember the way he had looked at him, not like he was broken, instead he had looked at him as if he was sudoku from which he was missing one particular number.

The rain outside heavied and the young man opened his eyes with a soft flutter as if he just woke up from a deep sleep, his eyes went down, looking at the old notebook that had curled letters which formed one particular word, "Zhanyi".

An ice-cold shiver ran down his spine when his fingers unconsciously trailed off the golden letters with a heavy heart, the name Zhanyi sounded so familiar, as if it woke up something that was long buried away somewhere inside his heart.

The feeling the name Zhanyi gave him was as if an old door to a memory opened, but he couldn't see the memory, he was only able to feel the soft breezes of spring, and thousands of butterflies flying around inside his stomach, coiling up, without a reason why.

The golden colour of the letters had slightly faded through the years, but it was still more than visible enough to read, and it shone as stars did.

His slender fingers flipped open the first page that was entirely blank, then he flipped towards the second page that was as empty as the one before, once again he turned a third page which was just like the ones before, and that was the moment he decided to flip faster through the whole book, only to discover it was all completely white.

And only one thought crossed his empty mind, why would he have kept an empty notebook with Zhanyi written on it, in a box that was called "important" if nothing was written inside it?

He shook his head while heaving out a deep sigh and started to massage his temples trying to think of any reason why in the world he would have done this, and what the meaning could have been of this notebook?

The rain outside heavied and a clear flash of lightning was visible through the dark night, and after a long silence followed by the sound of it.

His long fingers softly tickled on the notebook with the rhythm of the rain while his eyes zoomed out to another place, probably somewhere in the galaxy, and once again a deep sigh escaped his mouth when a thought crossed his mind.

But the very same moment he shook the thought away, he wouldn't have done that . . . Would he?

Slowly but surely he opened a drawer and took a small thing out that looked like a flashlight, but unbeknownst it wasn't just a flashlight.

The young man kept the small flashlight between his fingers while twisting it, and once again he looked deep in thoughts as if he was drowning in them.

When he finally woke up from his train of thoughts, he turned the notebook back to the blank first page and used the small flashlight to lighten the page, not because the room was too dark, but because there was a chance, a small one, but it could explain why this notebook was blank.

And just like he had assumed, out of the blank page that it once was, words came visible under the moon coloured light of the flashlight he held, and unconsciously a small wicked smirk appeared on his face while he ruffled through his messy dark hair.

At that moment the rain outside stopped pouring and he started reading his long-forgotten story . . .

Word count: 831 words

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