Hey there everyone. It's been a while since I was here. Currently having my finals, two weeks through and two more weeks to go.
Just a short update, hope you guys will like it :)
Disclaimed.
There's Nothing Else He Could Do
He fought.
He struggled.
He yelled.
He cried.
Was there nothing he could do to mend this wound, he asked himself.
Was it that hard for him to release himself from this heart-wrenching pain?
He lived all his life in dark and negative emotions – sorrow, agony, disappointment, betrayal.
He knelt.
He begged.
He suffered.
He wept.
The thought of losing everything infuriated him.
No, it didn't anger him, nor did it make him lose his sanity.
It pulls him way down to the pit of darkness.
She obliged.
She listened.
She wanted.
She helped.
He appreciated every single strand of chromosome of her.
If only she could share every single piece of agape love to everyone on Earth.
Then the world would be a more peaceful, loving and subtle place to live in.
She saw.
She screamed.
She succumbed.
She died.
That very day was a day he could never forget.
A date he could never erase from his memories.
An anniversary nobody else but him wanted to remember.
He fell.
He looked.
He traced.
He mourned.
All of them looked at him with pity.
Even his best friend sympathized with him.
He didn't need it.
What he needed was not sympathy nor pitiful eyes or comforting words.
What he wanted was her to be with his side.
What he knew that he was the cause of all misery.
The tear-stained porcelain skin of his best friend's girlfriend and the pain-stricken amethyst eyes she bore at him.
He was at fault, he knew it clearly.
But there was nothing else he could do.
They came.
They spoke.
They bowed.
They left.
They came and left.
To them, it was yet another death procession.
To her, it was the funeral of her best friend.
To him, it was a painful process, more agonizing than anything he has been through.
He wanted to be there, with her.
Every single time he placed his slender fingers on the gray stone, he would whisper to himself quietly, as if he was sharing a personal and intimate conversation with her.
He slowly yet gently traced the words carved on the headstone.
It spelt "佐倉蜜柑" so perfectly.
Sakura Mikan.
A name so beautiful, which was but tough enough to break his façade into shattering pieces.
A person so loving, who was able to love him unconditionally.
A heart so warm, which was able to melt his cold and iced.
Years passed,
One,
Ten,
Thirty.
He came every single year.
He brought her favorite every single time.
Howalon.
He knew how much she craved for it when she was still alive.
He remembered the way she pouted every time when he refused her offer.
He memorized the picture when she beamed ever so gladly when he decided to take a piece.
He wished he could have done better.
But it was too late. There was nothing else he could do.
Thank you for reading!
Green Button anyone? :)