Asuka died today. Or was it yesterday. I do not know. I do not feel hunger nor t hirst, yet my stomach is weak, there is not a single tear running down my face b ut yet I have never been more sad. This sick feeling is depressing, it makes my arms limp and the rest of my body weak . I let nature's sound run wildly in thro ugh my ears. I hear a strong rush of wat er to my left, I must be close to a rive r , maybe a waterfall. I try, but can no t manage to turn by body towards the dir ection of the flowing water. Why is my b ody so stiff? This sick feeling is truly the worst. Maybe that's why I find myse lf staring at the sky. The birds freely soar the skies, a faint array of puffy w hite clouds can be seen over-shadowing t he ocean, and the sun shines away at the surface. It looks much more calm up the re than down here. Is this scenery a way to suppress my current state?
People look up at the sky and clouds for a temporary sigh of relief right? To le t their minds ease off from whatever's b een bothering them for that day. Heh, wh o am I kidding, maybe they just want to know what the weather is like. Weird, I felt as if I had made a slight smile, no , more like a grin. Come on Shinji, get a hold of yourself. Smiling at your own jokes is not you. What is going on?
I struggle to move my body towards the r iver again, but only succeed in tilting my head. I was right; I sit by the bank of a river, splashing and hurdling, the river's white-water rushes furiously tow ards it's end; a waterfall. There is muc h more movement down here than up in the sky. My mind has become much more activ e. My thoughts run wild. This water, why is it in such a hurry to end? Damn it S hinji, you know water doesn't have a tra in of thought. Stop thinking about what the water is doing and think about what you are doing? Yes, what am I doing? Oh right, now I remember. I look down at my lap. There lays Asuka. Her face and min e connect. Her beautiful blue eyes gazin g at my own, indicating a sign of life. But no, she is not alive. I killed her.
