6x featured | When his crush kills herself in front of him, Diego ends up back in time in order to confess his love for her. A second chance, a possibility to start their love story all over again. But will he be able to save her from the clutches o...
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I could sense something drip onto my eyelids, making its way from my scalp into my droopy eyes. Blood, I thought, pleased. Finally I would get to reunite with Lyra and mom.
I slowly touched the top of my head, trying hard not to make an obvious happy face because who in their sane state would smile at a burial ceremony unless they were replaying a sweet memory in their head? I checked my fingertips in search of the expected red but found myself rather disappointed. It wasn't blood. Just water — dripping from my wet hair due to the rain.
The warmth of the sun was gone now, chilly air replacing the scene as people held their umbrellas high above their head, shivering under it due to the sudden cold. But the warmth I seeked had already left me earlier today — as it jumped to death in front of me. I wonder why.
The sky had lost its sun out of nowhere today too, just like I had lost the one who made all my days brighter by simply existing. My sunshine, my ray of light in the dark, my candle who illuminated the darkest room with just her presence.
I couldn't help but envy the sky for a moment. Because though it was away from its sun right now, the brightness would eventually return to it soon. After all, the sun was never truly gone. It was just hiding behind the dark clouds. But where was my Lyra? Where was she hiding? If only I knew, I would go into the depths of the ocean to find her and bring her back.
If only there was a way to turn back time. If only I could have known earlier how the day was going to turn out. I would've never woken up in the first place. To be fair, everything felt so surreal as if it was nothing but a bad dream. I truly hoped it was. I don't remember the amount of times the possibility made me close my eyes to wake up from this nightmare but all I ended up with was aching eyelids.
The scene before me never changed.
But the cries around me were all too real. The shock on everyone's faces, the solemn grey that settled over the graveyard was enough proof. They believed she was gone for real. And maybe, just maybe, she really was.
Why? Why don't I get to die just like mom and Lyra did? Why do I lack the guts to kill myself unlike their bold act of giving up? Why do I have to suffer each day and wait to die naturally? No matter how hard I pray, how often I pray, death doesn't seem to want me either.
A student's dad spoke from behind me. "Those who kill themselves are not bold. Rather, they're weak, they're the timid kind. They are vulnerable, in pain and forget how important life is. They run away from challenges and responsibilities which is wrong-"
I couldn't listen to this man anymore. Wrong? He was wrong. He had no idea what it was like to wake up and fight your own demons daily and live through the pain each passing minute of your life. It was absolutely terrible of him to have brought his whole 'survival of the fittest' ideology into this — especially when the grave of someone who tried and lost was being dug as he spoke.
