I thought as I walked into a bus. It was when I first met her, it was rainy. A surreal day just like today, maybe not like today. But what happened was still the same. She was dead and she was dead. I laughed to myself, it was a silent tribute to one of her joke I finally got. I kept thinking as I got on to the bus, why do I still feel nothing? Her education to me about mortality, the world, life, self, time and mostly the manifests of reality, it is all real. Then why do I feel nothing? Maybe I had only spent a short month with her, is that it? It was a short month.......Or was it a year? I got everything she was talking about. She even acknowledged it, granted, there were some days that are blurry. When she was drawing Napoleon, on that 2 days was when I didn't go. We simply talked on the phone, didn't remember much of it. Well, I guess I am a superficial asshole, after all, I wouldn't have noticed her if it wasn't for her look. Questions filled my head. The last one was probably the one that will make any normal people to start questioning their sanity. It was definitely a month, a month had passed. I look at the date, May 1st, died on her birthday. When I came to, I realized I have yet again day-dreamed my way to the hospital. I stood there. Still and trying my best to figure out why I came here, I should be back at my dorm. Yet here I stood, it was here when I first met her. It was a month ago, her brazen black hair with beautiful shades of gray around the surface, her luminescent green eyes, and now. It was all gone, she was dead. I kept walking by the hospital. Reminding me of the first few days I met her.
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