SORRY! for the very late update!:c Anyhow, I'm Yuki! And I'm back after a long time of hiatus. So, I figured I should give you a treat of 2 chapters but that would be really boring! So, here's chapter 1! and hopefully, chapter 2 is on Nov. 3. See you all!
Looking through the glass window of the air-conditioned bus, I remembered memories
When we usually say memories it gets that smile on our faces but to me, it gives a stagger right through my chest. Memories make me shiver, it makes me want to curl into my bed and slowly fade away just like a movie on the last scene before the cast starts rolling.
I saw my refection at the pane and saw a fragile person who doesn’t want to go back. It has been five years I told myself. My long curly brown hair now is just a short black bob then. I was sixteen. Nearly college and was full of hope. I was young and I was in love.
I clearly remember memoirs. I can’t help but remembering him—Chad. He was tall, at least four inches taller than I am. His black hair was shaved because he feels like they’re all annoying. His megawatt smile. His brown eyes. And his death
I opened my eyes and shook my thoughts.
The bus then stopped that made me realize my 6-hour drive is over. Picking my tote from the floor and another bag from the top compartment, I slowly went into the pile of people who are going down.“Maggie!”
I saw my dad waving his right hand and I threw it back. I figured I might need to smile so I did before picking my other things from the other bus’ compartment and went their direction.
With him is my mom, who doesn’t smile. Never smiled since that incident. My older sister is there beside her waving her hand with the twinkling ring. I will never really get back if not for her and her wedding. She convinced me that I need to be there and it would just be 5 days or something.
I hugged my father as I reach them, my sister next and a slight smile to my mom. She didn’t look at me. “So, how’s the bride to be?”“Nervous!”
She shrieked, “And how about my little sister? You look really beautiful than those awful pictures and cards you sent me!” “Ha-ha, very funny! I missed you picking up on me!”“Okay, enough.”
My mom interrupted the mood with her chilly statement, “Let’s go home. The soup will get cold.”
As soon as she said it, she left. And my eyes wanted to release some tears.
My dad took my shoulder, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. She’s just really tired.”
I know she isn’t. And the moment she knew the reason why Chad committed suicide—and it’s me, she hated me. She accused me falsely of committing murder. She sent me away.
It was hard getting through this. But it was harder to go back, five years later and realize nothing has changed. Everyone will always remember you as the reason why a person killed himself. And that memories, that’s the reason I don’t want to go back.