I used to always hear my dad say "Don't keep your head stuck in the past" every time I mentioned anything about passed stock markets and whatnot. But now, I hear it every time I think, every time I try to remember her. Her memory is very strong in my head, the way she gently brushed and plaited her dark hair in the morning, the way she fumbled around for her glasses, her big, chunky shoes with a bouncy double knotted bow. Her "other" self, that I wasn't fond of as much, but still cared about nonetheless. Sometimes I see her, dream of her, talk to her. I still feel she's there, standing behind the bookshelves in the library, but when I turn to tell her to leave, she's already gone. Other times I talk to her, I see her, sitting right in the small brown cushioned chair, constantly fidgeting and fixing herself, talking in her low, yet sweet voice about anything - her books, books she read, books she's going to read, gossip on the other students, her favourite food, her family, every little thing would be spoken through soft rose petal lips. Then I hear my father again, "don't keep your head stuck in the past" and I think of about five years ago. Well, I'm not certain if it was exactly five years ago, but I try to figure it out. I remember seeing it, the small, sharp, cursive writing on the paper, her body laying pale and limp on her bed. The blood, oh the blood. The blood on the bed, on the floor, on her uniform, in her hair, tainting her pale white skin a deadly crimson. Don't keep your head stuck in the past. Don't keep your head stuck in the past. Don't keep your head stuck in the past. I remember her the day before, telling me, telling only me every last detail. How much she loved me, how close we've grown, how she has changed, how the "other" her isn't bothering her much anymore. I remember it all, every last word. I also remember the next day reading those words on that paper, Monobear's deadly chant of "A body has been found!" "Dear Byakuya, I'm sorry." Don't keep your head stuck in the past. Don't keep your head stuck in the past. Don't keep your head stuck in the past. I remember the trail, for once I was completely speechless. My brain was clouded with thoughts, yet none were being said. I remember everyone's face, how dead everyone sounded. I couldn't bear to look at anyone, but I could feel them all looking at me. Then after a long silence I said the word that ended the trail. "suicide" I asked Monobear for her image, I needed it somewhere, anywhere, everywhere. She's not happy in the image, she didn't smile much. But on the rare occasion that she did, I loved it. The picture goes with me everywhere now. I have her always with me. Our son, that she had about a year before the incident has a lot of her tendencies, he reminds me a lot of her. But he isn't her, merely a copy, a mimic. Don't keep your head stuck in the past. Don't keep your head stuck in the past. I don't care anymore. I don't care about my dad anymore, he can't get me out of here, and he can't bring her back. He can't bring back my Touko. All I have left is the past, and I'm holding it close to my heart.
