It felt like time flowed on its own, but it left me behind in the same exact place I stood for the last seven years. To me, I always thought time was a useless measure. In every action I took I started to lose hope. I searched and searched and searched for her. When everybody else had given up on her and forgotten her I didn't. It may have sounded silly when I told everyone she was alive. Wherever I walked I heard laughs in the crowds, I knew they were all pointed towards me. Even if it has been so long.

"Poor soul. Still searching for his sister."

"I pity the poor thing, he can't accept reality. People who go missing are most likely dead."

But I ignored the laughs and unnecessary 'pity'. They hurt, but perhaps after seven years they were somewhat correct. I should have given up. But I didn't, because she was my elder sister- not only that, she was my only family to me as well. She was important to me- actually, she was the world to me.

I thought I had given up, or that I had somehow accepted the fact that she disappeared from the world without saying goodbye, but I was wrong. On that one day, I found a small flickering light of hope. And I grasped it without much thought. The newspaper stated that in my own hometown, there was a gallery for her favorite artist, Weiss Guertana. He was an artist who had a unique expression in art, though he may seem unpopular amongst people today, she knew everything one could possibly know about him. She spoke about him every minute of her day and, as a result to her constant discussions, I knew the name of each work he created. He also was part of the reason I was influenced to be an artist myself. But why was his gallery opening in my own hometown a sign of hope? If she were truly alive, she would be in that very gallery. And I was not going to allow this chance to slide.

I decided to visit on the very first day the gallery opened and that night I barely slept, the excitement consumed me and I had woken up earlier than I intended. I arrived to the gallery as soon as it opened. I set out to explore the whole gallery and observe piece by piece. The white walls and floor highlighted the colors of the artworks, the exhibit displayed countless pieces, from sculptures to portraits.

'Serpent's spirit' , a piece which solely used the three primary colors, it was the piece which encouraged Guertana to focus on abstract art. Though, it was unfortunate that cubism was more popular during the time he created this thus his art was ignored.

'The Embodiment of the Spirit', it was a giant sculpture of a red rose, it meant to be a way of showing the human heart.

'The Lady in Red', was a beautiful portrait featuring a lady wearing a bright red gown. Most thought it was a piece to show the lover of Guertana but ge has claimed it was truly about women who attempted to court him for his inheritance. To me, I felt there was more to it. It scared me how she looked like she would gaze pierced right into your soul as if she were trying to capture your heart.

But the piece which caught my eye was 'The Hanged Man' it displayed a man hanging upside-down with his leg connected to a single red thread. I remembered this painting as if she showed me it in her tattered book just yesterday. It was my last memory of her and love for art.

"Hey, Hey, look Garry! Doesn't this look beautiful- it's called the Hanged Man." She pointed at the picture on the bottom right of the page in her book.

I ignored her as she continued to shove the book in front of my homework which I was attempting to complete.

"Hey Garry," She pouted, "Just look at it and can you just guess why Weiss Guertana made this piece?"

"Hm… No, I suppose I can't guess." I shook my head as I didn't even attempt to see it, I was too busy solving the question I didn't have the time to play her little games.

"Garry," She sighed, "You didn't even look, honestly, it's only going to take a couple of minutes- take a quick break!"

I ignored her but it was no use she kept telling me to look until I had no choice but to give up to her constant whining.

I finally closed my book and turned around to confront her, "What is it?"

"Right here," She pointed at it, it was at the bottom right corner of the page, It showed a man hanged on a red string and it's title was 'Hanged Man'

"Hm? Isn't it an indicator of a surrender and sacrifice?" I asked, she, however, wore a blank expression. "You know it is an imitation of the tarot card 'the hanged man'? It was one of the most complicated cards and has a variety of meanings- but yes, the way he drew it is quite peculiar. The red string must indicate-"

Her laugh interrupted my analysis of the piece, "Honestly- you sound very interested in this when just a minute ago you didn't agree to even see it!"

"Well, I think it must have been somebody's influence,hm?" I was embarrassed it was unusual for me to get so carried away so I quickly turned back to my homework hoping she won't realize.

"You know," She started, " I wonder how he makes his art so unique and special. It may seem quite eccentric but I could feel was as if he put his soul in every single piece of his art."

"Huh?"

She laughed, "Nevermind, I don't think you would get it."

Back then, I wouldn't have known my love of art if it weren't for her. It were her words that brought my dream to light, "It was as if he put his soul in every single piece of his art." I didn't understand what she meant and I can't really say that I completely understood the words but as I thought about it more and more, I think I understood something. It was an unexplainable feeling, it was beyond the love of an artwork or the love the style and colors. It was also beyond just understanding the meaning behind it, it was as if combining all these elements to feel the artwork itself.

Now, I knew more to this piece than I did a couple of years ago. It was a piece created while Guertana was working for a magazine. It has become a famous piece and was sold as an actual tarot card. It wasn't the imitation of the card as I had thought, it was the card it self. But even today, no one could find with this painting. Though even if I learnt more about it, there was still many things I never understood his intentions for drawing it.

What did the red string show? Did he create it intending one of the many meanings of the tarot card? Did the color choice show anything? How could a man create such a mysteriously captivating piece? The truth was still shrouded in mystery. I wondered, if she were here with me would she have any answers?

Where is she now?