…

The laughter.

..

I can hear his laughter, I think to myself.

….

“Am I going crazy?”

..

It’s Sunday. I place the car keys on the kitchen table, sit down. My brains keep on wanting to collect my thoughts, to make me come back to my senses but I’m refusing with my everything I have. With the little energy I have left from the fight.
I rip the black lacy clothes off of me, throw them in the darkest corner. I lay on the livingroom’s floor, on the furry mat and stare through the glass table at the vase of roses. They look so fresh, still.

I turn to look on my right, at the dark corner. I don’t know if he had seen my message, and I didn’t have time to ask anyone when I was kneeling down in front of the port to the graveyard, holding my breath and listening to the last words told to him who was going to get buried into the embrace of the wet soil.

---------------------------------------------------------------

The sky is blue and the sun is shining
So my tears are even more noticeable
Why is it you? Why did it have to be you?
Why can’t I leave you?~

---------------------------------------------------------------

When I glance back at the flowers wanting to remember the day he gave them to me, something’s wrong. The roses have turned black and dry and if I touched them, they would propably turn into dust, crumble down just like my life.

A sound echoes from my left. But even if I look, there’s nothing. The longer I listen to it, the more it sounds like somebody’s voice. Like someone was approaching me, silently. But I don’t budge, I don’t get scared. In a magical way it feels good. Like a positive energy surrounding me, pushing through the heavy walls that are trying to fall and crush me underneath. But this energy keeps them still. This energy saves me, keeps me alive.

“Jimin…?”

My words echo everywhere. But there’s something else…

A light giggle around me.

I’m not going crazy. It’s his bright, high-pitched laughter, the happiest of them all, that echoes throughout the whole dorm. Just like he would be laughing in the radio or in the air conditioner, making it sound like he was everywhere, or like I was high. But I certainly wasn’t. I get goosebumps.
“Park Jimin?” I ask more confidently this time.

It is like water, nourishing the petals and green little cells of them. Like coming alive again, as the flowers. Bringing me his love, his colors. Brightening up my black day this way.

I realize that he had seen it. That he had finally get to known that I love him.

Something in the corner of my eye changes and I turn to look at the crystal vase and rose bouquet. The rustling dry leaves slowly turn fresh and bright green, like someone had casted a magic spell on them. The petals reach up to the sky. To the sky they say you flew to, to the heaven. That beautiful place, full of cotton candy clouds and happiness.

“That’s what they say…”

“But I know you’re here,” I stand up, turn slowly around in the livingroom.

“The flowers,” I whisper. “They will never die, right?”

… No answer.

I smile.

“I knew it.”
“Without you they’re going to die. But if you stay here I know it by just glancing at the bouquet you gave me.”

One of the windows flies open, stingy sunrays shine so brightly, lightning up even the darkest corner of my little dorm, making every cell of my body shiver.

An ugly expression darkens my face as the first tears begin to stream down. My eyes are focused on the flowers, on the bright pink roses, that only seem to become more lively second after second, until I can’t see anything because it’s so blurry. I give up. In that moment, I say I can’t take it anymore. I admit that I have reached the border between what is sane and what is insane. What is worth it and what is not. But if you stay by my side, I will try… I will try to survive. That’s all I can do now.

“Okay… Jimin. I know you’re still here with me. And I promise:
I will keep watering those seven roses until we meet again.”

Notes

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