This is the last time I will ever write.
I can feel it growing colder and emptier as more and more of our members disappear.
Perhaps it is my time to go as well.
There is nothing left holding me here, with Iwasawa gone and the others following quickly.
Will anyone remember me?
Was there any point to living, or even dying?
Any point at all?
Listen to my story if you can.
See if you understand.
I had one of those types of lives where everything just seemed too perfect. I was born into wealth and happiness, with one older sister who had moved out when I was still a child. We had never been close, and she did not have a good relationship with our parents, either. Losing her to a husband, a job, and a new life were no big sacrifice- she simply became a name signed on Christmas and birthday cards. We were happy at home, I did well in school, played three different sports, and also had plenty of friends.
But none of this really mattered to me, since I was dead inside long before I actually did pass away. I was living an ordinary life- so ordinary that it was almost painful. I woke up every morning, and I was just like every other girl in the entire world. That wasn't enough for me, and I knew it. I had a restless soul, the kind that demanded adventure and recklessness.
The first day of high school, I caught a glimpse of the most beautiful person I have ever known, a tall figure with androgynous features. She later told me that gender didn't matter at all- she didn't care how others saw her. She refused labels, be them male or female.
She was wild teenager I had always wanted to be. She had words that she wasn't afraid to use, constantly screaming out against pain and injustice. I joined her, adding my voice to the strained calls of kids everywhere. We were right, and the world was wrong. It was the two of us against the universe, and we didn't need anyone but each other.
I loved her, and she knew it.
She knew that I would walk off the edge of the Earth if she did, that I would follow her anywhere.
I didn't realize that every time we made these promises to each other, that she would take them and twist them.
The world was so corrupted that it didn't deserve us.
We were too good to be treated this way.
I knew she struggled at home with her parents from the whispers of our community, but I never asked questions.
Many times I opened my door in the middle of the night to her on the front steps. I'd come outside, and we'd talk and wander for hours. It didn't matter that we were kids, we knew better than to believe the reassurances of adults. They would never make anything better- we needed to take matters into our own hands. Getting lost on those late night adventures helped her, I think. It kept her from having to deal with the real world in front of her.
She would sing for me.
I would play my guitar.
And slowly, very slowly, a new chapter in our lives began.
We formed a band. It wasn't pleasant music, or some kind of teenage girl shit. No, we were angry, and we deserved to be heard. We would turn up our volume all the way when we practiced, and she would scream and I would play, and we would be happy. Music was another one of her escapes, and I'd be a damned fool if I wasn't going to follow her in her dreams. Everyone knew that she would make it far someday, she had a personality far too big to ever be ordinary.
It wasn't too long before my grades slipped- and my parents and I fought- and I dropped everything. She was the light in my world- too important to ever lose.
"I love you," I would say, late at night when anything sounds reasonable.
"Would you do anything for me?" she would ask.
"Anything, anywhere," I would reply. "Forever and ever, you and me against the world."
"You and me," she would finish, pulling me close. "Just the two of us."
Notice that she never said it back? Only asked for more than I could promise? I was content with this, however. I could live with only being her friend, even if that wasn't what I truly wanted. I wanted her. I wanted to kiss her, and love her, and have her to myself forever. But even more than that, I wanted to save her from her worst enemy- herself.
She turned to worse habits, much worse than staying up late. It became a challenge of sorts, almost like an exclusive club. How little could we eat, how much could we drink, how many pills could we swallow, how much blood could we lose- the list got longer and more twisted as time went on. This wasn't what I wanted, but I couldn't say no to her. She had invisible vines wrapped around my limbs, pulling me down with her.
But even as our private lives grew worse, our public lives grew better.
We were signed to a label and began producing music.
'Sad Machine' as were called, became successful. We recorded during the day, and played live shows at night. We were living the high life, and she finally seemed to be free of the restraints that had pulled her down. And yet... she still wasn't happy. I dropped out of high school when she did, moved in with her, gave up contact with my family- I did everything possible, and it was never enough.
We kissed one night, when she was intoxicated past the point of coherence.
She didn't remember it.
I became scared, not only for her life, but for mine. I knew that what we were doing was dangerous. To this day, I still have empty hours in my memory where I had blacked out or passed out from the reckless lifestyle we lead. I have vague impressions of the things we did, most if not all illegal, but imperfect recall. I started pulling away. I knew that I couldn't live this way- that we needed help. I considered quitting the band.
When I would confront her, she would brush it off. It wasn't until I packed my bags and told her that I was leaving that she took me seriously. Yet, she still refused to seek help or even admit that there was anything wrong with the life we had created for ourselves.
I left our shared apartment, as she begged me to stay with tears streaming down her face and blood running from both of our arms.
I turned off my cell phone and threw it away when hearing her on my voice mail became too much.
I moved back in with my parents.
And then... I got the phone call.
She had killed herself with a single bullet, right through the head. And it was all my fault.
I didn't save her.
I broke my promises.
I tried to follow her, I did. But every time, I would wake up in a hospital and curse my inability to even die correctly. I went back to our shared apartment once I was determined stable, and packed up her things. I couldn't leave that place, so I moved back in with my sister and her family taking up residence next door.
The life we were leading before she died didn't nearly compare to the one I created for myself after. If I had been dead inside before, now I was a decaying, rotting soul. I partied all night, almost never coming home. And when I did come home- I was never alone. I tried to replace my guilt with as many people as possible- male or female, it didn't matter. I would take drugs, anything that I could get my hands on. And then I would wash them down with burning sips of alcohol. My life was truly meaningless now, I was the lowest of the low.
A man was the one to take my life, pressing a knife to my throat in the dark so I could never tell the crimes he had committed against me. At that point, I almost welcomed death. There was nothing left for me to live for.
All I had were my regrets.
I was a murderer.
I had murdered my best friend, my almost-lover, by turning my back when she needed me.
And I hadn't been able to do anything meaningful.
When I awoke in the Afterlife, I remembered. I knew what it was to love and lose, and I knew the stains her blood had left on my soul. I believed this to be my punishment, always carrying her in my heart. I looked for her, yet I never found her. I was told that no suicides had ever arrived here.
I didn't remember her name.
I didn't remember my own.
Just Hisako, which wasn't my name at all. A stage persona, nothing more. A name that was as empty as I was.
I had no purpose.
I hadn't played the guitar since I had left her, all that time ago.
I had no drive, and no hope left.
That was true, until I met the person who changed everything all over again. Although she didn't look like my old friend, Iwasawa Masami was her. She wasn't an exact copy, but something about the way she sang and played resembled the girl I had known so strongly. She had the passion when she sang, that same fire. When we played together, it was like nothing had ever changed. Against my will, I fell in love all over again. But this time, I was more cautious. No promises were made, but the unspoken ones were even more powerful than any I had ever spoken in life.
I would protect the beautiful girl with the rose petal hair. I would save her in a way that I couldn't save the girl who was so painfully similar.
When I first heard Iwasawa sing, I knew that it was done. I had gone and found another soul mate, this one even closer to perfection than the last. I realized that love was perfectly imperfect- but that I needed her. I needed her love- and her talent. I found music once again, the muscles of my fingers and wrists remembering every chord they had ever learned.
I pushed her into forming a band soon after our meeting.
I knew that this was destiny, that this is what I was supposed to be doing in life.
We were meant to find each other from the start.
My story was told to her fairly early on, but she didn't fault me. She needed me in the way that I needed her, and I couldn't have been more thankful. She gave me a purpose. And once we played our first show and began our personal rebellion- I was a goner. She loved me and I loved her, but we never needed to say it out loud. A look, a simple touch- that was all it took to say a million words. She was mine and I was her's.
And once we had a proper band, we became something. We made a name for ourselves as Girls Dead Monster, creating hits among the Battlefront as well as the NPC's. We were helping people, not just working for ourselves. We could make a difference.
When she told me her story, I cried. I had turned my back on everything good in my life, and my death was my own fault. She had never done anything to deserve the terrors and cruelty she underwent. Iwasawa had simply received bad luck and harsh judgment from God. She was the type who should have been in heaven, worshipped as a saint.
She had been good inside, and I had been empty.
I was the ugly raven to her beautiful crow.
When she told me how Sad Machine had changed her life, I kept my mouth shut. I couldn't tell her the whole truth, no matter how close we were. I couldn't taint her love for her idol. The one and only time I ever lied to Iwasawa was then. And it wasn't even a true lie, just a withholding of the truth. Somehow, that rationalization never made me feel better.
When Otonashi appeared, I knew I was about to lose her. It wasn't so much a conscious realization than it was a feeling. They talked that once during rehearsal, and she was distant for the rest of the day. I was jealous, I'll admit that readily. I just wasn't willing to share her with anyone. But I was certainly unprepared for the pain of losing her.
That last night with her- I remember it perfectly. The sparse crowd, our desperation, everything is so clear in my mind.
The opening of Alchemy surprising us all, and my rush to keep up with her.
Our program being cut short.
Being seized by the teachers.
Breaking free, and running to the soundboard.
Broadcasting her voice- that beautiful voice.
Watching my love disappear right before my eyes.
It wasn't the same after that.
I couldn't believe that I had been left behind yet again.
Sure, we got a new singer and continued playing, but it was never the same. I missed my friend, turning bitter as her absence ate a hole into my heart where she had once been. I needed Iwasawa like I needed food or water or rest. I needed her love.
When I found out that it was okay to move on, I knew immediately that I was ready to go. I had redeemed myself through helping her to realize her dream and find peace. There was nothing else I would have done differently from the moment we had met.
So here this is, the only proof that I ever existed.
I doubt anyone will ever read this, or even care.
But I swear, that if there is a God anywhere-
I will find her in the next life.
Iwasawa Masami, just wait for me.
I'm coming.
-Hisako