For a week… Nonstop… It was raining and thundering… With the periodic lightning strike in the distance… Water droplets rolling down my casement windows as I stared out… My heart feeling the thunder as if it was an emotion of mine…
For the duration of the week… Staring out that window turned into a hobby… So did writing… I would sit in my room, sipping green tea… As I would think about what to write…
On the final day of rain… I sat on my bed, and looked out one last time… And as I was writing… I came to a halt… I got stuck on a line… A line that no matter how I worded sounded, off… So that night, I went to bed… Hoping to find the right line the next morning…
When I awoke in the morning… I no longer heard rain water pouring out from the gutter… I looked out the window, and it wasn’t raining anymore…
I put on my shoes and opened the front door… And I was met with a slightly cold, gentle gust of wind… Carrying the petrichor scent of rain with it…
I then headed out for a walk, for the first time in a while…
And took in the lovely scent….
The scent of morning’s after rain….
During a rainy day in Spring… When I was younger… My parents saved a stray kitten from drowning in a deep puddle… After a few days of constant rain…
They took it to a veterinary hospital for animals… And came back with the kitten in tow… The cat was silky black with bright yellow eyes… My parents tried to name him, but couldn’t find a good name…
I blurted out the name Haru…
He slowly walked toward me… And rubbed his head against my bent knee…
And as if the world new… It suddenly stopped raining… And the sun showed for the first time in almost a week…
For years after… Haru and I were always together… From my 10th birthday, where he got into the cake… To my first heartbreak, where somehow his presence comforted me… And my sudden illness, where he knew I was feeling bad… And didn’t let anyone get near me as if protecting me…
After a week in the hospital, I was able to go home… And the one waiting for me… Was none other than Haru… He meowed uncontrollably when I stepped inside… He was so happy to see me after a week… So much that he didn’t let me leave his sight for a few weeks after…
You were always there for me… So why… Tell me why….
Why am I crying over your grave…?
Why aren’t you here like you always were…?
Why aren’t you by my side any longer…?
Haru….
As I walk along the promenade… I stop for a moment… I look out… And see the ocean view…
I gaze at it for a while… Taking in the view… One of the best I’ve seen in a while… Of the glistening ocean next to me…
I close my eyes… And I hear, a song..? I turn to where I hear it… But there is nothing but the ocean in my stead…
That’s when I realize… It’s not someone playing a song… Someone singing or humming a song… It was coming from the ocean…
From that moment onward….
I was able to hear it….
The ocean’s melody….
A few days before Christmas Eve, I told my friend about the plans I had. I told him I was going to two different parties, that I’d get double the food and double the fun. I painted a picture of a perfect night, and he smiled, nodding in approval. It sounded great, didn’t it?
But the truth is, it wasn’t great. Not even close.
The parties were held on the same day—one at my mom’s, and the other at my dad’s. The idea seemed harmless at first, two celebrations, two chances to make memories. But when I walked from one to the other, all I could feel was the weight of the invisible rope pulling me in two directions. My mom and dad, both of them silently competing for me, for my time, for my presence.
I became the rope in their tug-of-war.
I tried to tell myself it wasn’t that bad. I tried to convince myself that I could handle it, that I was strong enough to endure the strain. I could go from one party to the next, make small talk, pretend everything was fine. But every step I took felt heavier, the distance between the two worlds growing with each passing minute. I felt like I was being torn apart, and I couldn’t escape it.
Neither of them saw it. They didn’t understand. To them, I was just there, at each party, moving through the motions. But they didn’t see how much it hurt to be pulled in two directions, how much it stung to know they were quietly competing for something they should have been able to share. I didn’t know how to tell them that it wasn’t just exhausting, it was destroying me.
I couldn’t say anything. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I was too scared. Scared of how they would react. Scared that if I told them how it felt, they would be angry, or worse—dismissive. I didn’t want them to feel like they weren’t enough, or that I didn’t care about them. And so, I said nothing. I just went along with their silent battle, smiling through the pain, pretending like everything was okay.
But inside, I wasn’t okay.
At night, when the parties ended and the silence settled in, it all hit me. The weight of the day, the weight of the guilt, the weight of being torn between two lives. I cried then, when no one was watching. When I didn’t have to pretend anymore. I cried because I couldn’t speak the truth, couldn’t find the words to say how suffocating it all was.
I was afraid. Afraid of what they might think, afraid of what might happen if I opened up. I didn’t know what it was that held me back, but it was as if something deep inside me was telling me not to speak, not to complain, not to ask for anything more.
But that fear, that silence—it was changing me. Slowly. It was becoming who I was, this person who couldn’t ask for what they needed, who couldn’t speak their mind. It was turning me into someone I didn’t recognize, someone who was no longer sure who they were anymore. And that scared me more than anything. Because the more I held it in, the more it defined me, the more it took me away from myself. And I didn’t know how to stop it.
I didn’t know if I ever could.
I’m lost… Lost in the middle of nowhere… Or at least, I think I am… I’m blind to it… The snow that is… Everywhere I turn, it’s white… As far as the eye can see… But then again, it’s not that far, is it…
As I journey on, I come across a willow tree… The same one I’ve stumbled upon many times before… Its branches a familiar embrace… I lay beneath it… Taking a break…
Then I wake up… And for some unknown reason… I feel the same as I did in the blizzard… Lost… The only difference…
I’m now lost within my own consciousness….
Unable to escape….
Adrift in the blizzard of my mind…
In my hometown… There is a legend about a cave… Where supposedly a 7 year old had been found dead inside of… A few of my friends and I decided one day… That we would venture into the cave… To find out once and for all if it was real…
We walked to the cave at 10 pm… The time they found the boy’s body… A chilly night had been waiting for us… The cave is about a 12 minute walk from the edge of town… Sitting between a cliff and a trail… That leads to town and further up the mountain…
As we made our way up the trail… The cave now in sight… We began to reconsider our plans…
The cave was surrounded by dead shrubs… That gave the place an eerie look to it… And a faint, blue light in the pitch black of the cave…
We were all frozen in place…
Of all the stories that were made of the legend… None mentioned a faint blue light from the cave… But we knew we had to find out the truth…
We slowly made our way to the cave’s event horizon… And disappeared from outside…
As we paced through it… The blue light seemed to become bigger and brighter with every step… We were all breathing heavily… Afraid of what we would find…
We finally reached the end of the cave… And what we saw… Was a scenery straight out of a fairytale…
A ceiling with luminescent lights… A floor with lush, green grass… A small pond with water trickling down a hole in the wall… And lanterns with blue lights sitting on stones…
We stood in awe… Taking in the sight… And left, feeling relieved and satisfied…
The legend seemed to have been totally wrong… But the next morning, my father told us the truth about the story… The story was indeed real…
Because he was the father of the boy who was found dead…
We froze, and I thought about it for a second… He never mentioned I had a dead older brother… Nor did we have any pictures with him in them… He then took out a photo, and handed it to my friend… Who was standing next to me…
It was a picture of, me…
Then, my memories came flooding back…
I was kidnapped, and eventually killed… By an unknown person… And after weeks of search, they found my dead body in the cave… Then my father, after grieving my death… Decided to make the cave my grave… And designed the cave straight from the book I’d love to read…
And now….
I had to accept one, irrefutable fact….
I’m, dead….
One day, I got out of school… And decided to visit the library, seeking new books… When I opened the doors, a gust of wind greeted me… With it the scent of paper and faint traces of coffee… Lingering beneath my nose…
I made my way to the fiction aisle… In search of a book I longed to read again… A book called Fireflies… That left me wishing fireflies would light up my world… The story behind it is heart-wrenching…
The plot is long, but it changed the way I see the world… The way I interact with people…
As I searched, a girl entered the aisle… Looking for a book as well… I continued my hunt, and then I saw it… A glowing forest with green lights from the fireflies… I reached out to grab it…
And as my hand touched the book… Another hand appeared in my vision… Fingertips touching the same cover… I turned to my left… It was the girl, standing there…
We both froze, unsure of what to say… Then a line from the book popped into my mind… And I spoke it aloud…
“I’m disenchanted…” (I’m disenchanted…)
She spoke the words at the same time… Not only that… But she said the exact same line…
We stood in silence for a moment… Then, laughter erupted… From both of us….
As we started to read the book….
Together….
