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cy-writes · 6 months ago

Text

lili.

Word Count: 2.1k

Based on this song

TW: Suicidal thoughts, dependency & obsession, implied self-harm

I was with you again, in a field of flowers. Despite all the colors surrounding us, the only one that mattered was you, a silver lily shining through the chaos.

"Hey..." I started, trying to break the agonizing silence, but was met with nothing, not even a single sound from you. As if you were purposefully trying to ignore me. Uncomfortable, I shuffled away from you, deciding to watch you from afar.

You looked lonely, yet you didn't accept my company. Like a single fish, floating in your bowl. Happily in your own little world, unaware of your surroundings. Tears welled up inside me. If only...

A single unsaid word lay between us, one I've been trying to voice since that day.

Sorry.

Yet even now, in this fake reality, the word tangled up into a lump in my throat. Unable to cough it up, I fell to my knees. The lump grew, suffocating me until nothing else could come out.

I couldn't make a sound, watching you sit there through my tears, blissfully unaware of my silent struggle.

. . .

Yet again, I had that dream. Jerking up, I felt a familiar tug on my back, reminding me of the harrowing reality. Feeling my movement, it 'woke up' too.

Ever since that day, I was entrapped to this robotic, box-headed, expressionless demon. It's the only way I could live, in a life where pain and memories were synonymous. In a life where, if my emotions ever got out of control, the demon would take over, reducing me to nothing more than a dancing toy just like how I was that day.

It didn't prove itself to be a problem, but it was a constant reminder of you.

. . .

We first met in my hospital room.

Our town had been destroyed from a surprise attack, along with nearly everyone in it, except the two of us. I was one of the more introverted children in the town, there wasn’t anyone I had talked to for more than a few moments. Barely anyone knew me. Yet when you'd heard that I had survived the attack as well, you rushed to my room to keep me company along with a gift of Rubia Argyi. You seemed to like the red color the roots created, despite the white, stainless petals.

But behind those flowers were you.

I was mesmerized by you from the moment I saw you.

You were the only person who had willingly came up to me, instead of the reverse.

My heart had suffered during the attack, but you were fixing it, piece by piece.

The way you spoke, your pink lips moving confidently.

The way you always had a smile on your face, despite all the troubles.

The way your hands expertly cut out shapes from paper, presenting them with a proud expression.

The way they smoothly traced the pages of your book as you sat beside me.

The way they gently smoothened the creases of the wrinkled petals.

You were the only color in this world of darkness.

I was pulled along by you, a slave to each of your whims.

I tried copying your motions, but could never imitate your gracefulness.

I tried out the things you liked, trying to find a solace for myself while you were away.

I tried looking away, be my own self, but could never help getting drawn back to you.

But even so, I could never understand the real you, behind your smiles.

A few weeks later, we couldn’t stay at the hospital anymore. We had lives to lead, people to meet, things to do.

In the early morning mist, we’d said our goodbyes, going down our own paths.

. . .

A broken vase is by my side, filled with the dried flowers you used to carry.

My hands traced the edges of the glass, accidentally cutting myself on the edges. A drop of red blood swelled from the cut, staining another dead petal. By now, the pale petals had been dyed pink by my blood, but the pain usually helps me from reliving these memories.

The cherry sound of your voice still rings in my head, clear as day. Your face is etched in my memory, still alive in my mind. Your presence had brightened up my life, but now with you gone, I’ve sunk back down to melted indigo.

I can’t take this anymore. I went outside, hoping for a solace from the thoughts rushing back towards me.

. . .

We’d met together again, at the place where we’d said our goodbyes. It would’ve been better if I’d kept it at that. Better if I’d quit while I was ahead, start my own life without you.

I still couldn't break that mask of yours. But I was certain I was on the right track. A few years passed since the incident, and I was barely scraping by with multiple bills overdue.

You looked at me with sympathetic pity. As if I was something you had to save. As if I was helpless.

“You could live with me,” you whispered, stiffly. As if I was forcing you to say it. It didn’t sit right with me. I shouldn’t be the one to force your decisions.

"Enough about me. How about you?" I asked, fishing for something, anything that could direct the conversation away.

You gave me a soft smile hidden behind a few white hand-picked flowers, "I've been thinking... about our town." Ever since that day, we had never gone back there, scared our old buried memories would resurface.

I shook my head firmly. No. It was gone. What good would it do to go back? What good would it do to relive those memories again?

“Please,” you looked at me pleadingly, seeing my hesitation. “Let’s go back together.” I could see it in your eyes. You needed to do this. And you needed me there with you.

I relented. Maybe it was time to face it. Time to remember, to learn from the past. If it’s for you, I’d do it.

And so, we went back to the ashes that used to be our town.

Back to the field of Rubia Argyi, where you had died.

. . .

On the swingset, hugging my knees in a poor attempt to replicate your warmth.

The demon was beside me, but it was only an imposter trying to fill the hole you left behind. Trying to fill the hole that was my heart.

I wish I could've been you that day. If only our fates were swapped.

. . .

A few meters above the destruction, on the cliff surrounding the town. The regular entrance was fully unusable, debris blocking our way from entering normally. You bowed your head respectfully, a serene expression on your face.

Beside you, the memories replayed themselves relentlessly in my mind. White petals strewn on the ground. Red blood splattered across the walls. And in the middle of it all, was you. Still with that smile on your face. The only expression I’ve ever seen on you.

So that was the 'you' I had been searching for. Someone who'd moved on when I could not. Your smiles weren’t a mask. It was ‘acceptance’.

I felt the rage build up inside me, letting it explode into my words. "Don’t you remember?” I cried, desperate to hold onto the image I had of you. But it had already shattered into a million pieces. All the pent up anger I had towards the attackers, to the world, and even to you came boiling up into my head. The edges of my vision blurred, darkened into midnight black, my heart thumping loudly in my ears.

Thump, thump, thump.

One, two, three.

Onetwothree, onetwothree.

A hand swung out, although I had no awareness of ever moving it, grabbing your arm. You quickly broke away, backing away from me slowly. Your eyes widening, reflecting something that was not me. Not the real me.

But rather a dancing toy activated by my anger.

. . .

It’s suffocating.

I couldn’t remember when I had fallen off the swing, lying with a hand covering my eyes from the sun. My demon was beside me, just out of sight, imitating my position.

I wanted to scream, but no sound came out. Tears were threatening to spill out again. The sun was too bright, burning my eyes. How did it come to this?

I only tried to understand you at first. It was a hopeless endeavor, and before I knew it, you’d taken up too much of my life. And now I’m left with these faint wisps of memory that keep repeating itself. Repeating that day.

But I can’t say I regret all that’s happened. I don’t.

. . .

A rock.

It was a simple pebble, barely larger than my fist.

Yet it meant all the difference that day.

In the split second you had been distracted by me, your left foot hooked onto the end of the rock. You were rolling down the cliff and into the destruction, but I was frozen in place, too shocked and angry to make a move to stop you. To save you.

The flowers you were holding had slipped from your hands before you’d fallen, their white petals staining the dirty green grass. Once I could move again, I rushed to pick them up, sliding down the edge after you.

The first thing I saw was a streak of blood, delicately lining the edges of a wooden plank.

It was fresh, still dripping off the edge into a field of stubborn, familiar white flowers, partially stained by your blood. Many more planks were piled on top, disturbed by a sudden force.

Immediately, I knew what had happened.

My heartbeat started going berserk again, emotions welling up inside me. I didn’t dare get close. If my emotions get set off again… if I’d confirmed your death… I didn’t know what would happen.

My shaky hands found a glass bottle close to where I’d landed. It was merely cracked, a miracle considering everything, and I stuffed the flowers inside. I held the bottle close, the broken glass slicing into my fingers as I fell down to my knees, tears subconsciously falling down. Embracing the bottle imaging as if you were right there, with me.

I could feel my heart shattering into a million tiny pieces. At this point, there was no way to piece it back together, with you gone.

Time flew by before I knew it. The sun was already starting to set, and I’d cried all my tears away. But I couldn’t just climb out. I was far too weak; couldn’t even hold myself steady.

A hand reached down to me. Not a normal, fleshy hand, but rather electronic. A low ‘whirr’ of gears sounded from underneath some fabric, some fraying sections sewn together by only a few loose stitches. It was slightly transparent, as if it could disappear by just a touch.

I looked up, only to see a black box attached to the rest of what looked like a body made of the same material. But at the spot where its heart was supposed to be was completely empty.

I shakily reached up, taking its hand. It felt just like yours had, that day when we’d first met.

The hand clasped around mine, an electric current running through me. It pulled me up slowly, so slowly that I worried my arm would fall off by the time we got back up.

I stared back at the rubble, lost in thought. The demon kneeled down beside me, as if waiting for something.

“I’m sorry,” I started, talking to no one in particular, “I just… wasn’t in control of myself, I never meant for this to happen, I just…!” I didn’t even know what I was saying anymore. It was just a mess of words, words that meant nothing, words that couldn’t bring you back. Words that weren’t ever going to piece my heart back up. Unless…

The demon didn’t have a heart. And I had a broken one. “Can you…?” I didn’t know how to turn it into words. Something like this… wasn’t it too much of a request for someone like me?

Is it even alright for me to be living right now?

You had died, and I was only a broken shell without you.

I couldn’t be sure of anything anymore. My hand was stinging from the cut, but I reached out, holding the demon close. If this was the only way I could prevent what had happened today, I had to try.

The demon closed its arms around me, sealing the deal.

I watched your blood blur from my vision as I left you.

. . .

Is it alright for me to live?

The phrase keeps filling my mind, my thoughts.

This worthless existence without you…

As it is, how nice would it be, if I could be you.

#writers on tumblr #tw sui ideation #tw obsessive thoughts #tw sh implied #original work #?#sort of?#wrote this three odd years ago and still my greatest (finished) piece to date #i am yoh kamiyama's biggest fan and you can't convince me otherwise

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