The Haunting: A Love Story *UPDATED 02/26/2015*

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Megumeru
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The Haunting: A Love Story *UPDATED 02/26/2015*

Post by Megumeru »

The Haunting: A Love Story

Chapters
Prologue: Till’ Death...

ACT I -Black and White-
Chapter I: Funeral
Chapter II: Passing
Chapter III: Haunting
ACT II -Light Colors-
Chapter IV: A Drop of Green
Chapter V: Between You and Me
Chapter VI: What Lies Ahead
Chapter VII: Chained
Chapter VIII: Let me Love You
ACT III -Crimson Dusk-
Chapter IX: Dreamland
Chapter X: Sleep Walker
Chapter XI: Nightmare
Chapter XII: Shadows
Chapter XIII: Recollection
ACT IV -Clear Sky-



Prologue: Till’ Death…

Death is a concept many are familiar with. Whether it is natural, accidental, sickness, or murder, everyone who has walk in the face of the Earth is familiar of such gloomy prospect. It is a powerful word, strong and dark capable of exerting some of man’s greatest fears. It marks the cessation of life, the expiration of time, and the passing of the soul. It is a concept both feared and adhered, but most importantly it exist in each and every one of us. To some, death opens a way to a new world—a ‘Valhalla’ in Norse mythology or the concept of ‘Heaven’ and ‘Hell’ according to Christianity. Others believe in the cycle of reincarnation, the idea that you will be reborn as a new person. Nonetheless the prospect of life after death is common in most beliefs. There are also those who believe that the dead continue to walk as ‘spirits’ or ‘ghosts’; in most cases, they are often depicted as malevolent, wicked, vile, and mischievous—jealous, perhaps, of wanting to walk amongst the living once more. Such fate never escapes anyone’s mind; death is a concept both mysterious and fascinating.

The same goes for me, Hisao Nakai.

It is a concept that terrifies me, waking me in the middle of the night with a cold sweat every time I remember how close I am between the borders. In such a young age of 18, I suffer a heart condition—arrhythmia—that nearly took my life away the first time I experience it under the cold blanket of snow. Each time I wake up, dress, and see the bottle of pills I have to take to stay alive reminds me how short and sad my life has come to be. The pills often give me the feeling of living with a life support machine with the slight difference of being less bulky, but shares similar traits; if either one of them stops, so is my life. Ever since I knew about my condition, my life has become dark, gloomy, and hopeless.

That is, until my time in Yamaku High.

When I first transferred to Yamaku High, I saw first-hand the scars these students bear. Amputees, hearing impairment, burn scars, and other conditions I couldn’t even name; I was even secretly in awe of their capability to adapt and face each day with a smile and confidence of a ‘normal’. Yet here I was, a new student, who recently learned the prospect of living between the border of life and death, maintained 98% of my outward appearance, yet still had the guts to grief and bitch about my outcome. I was sad, pathetic, but more importantly I pitied my life to what it came to be. But one student in class 3-3 caught my attention as I did my introductory speech; she sat there, arms crossed, observing me from head to toe with an unquenchable curiosity before she communicate with her friend using what was apparently sign language. After my conclusion, the homeroom teacher—Akio Mutou—informed me of an upcoming group work and paired me with ‘Hakamichi’, the class representative.

“Hey, I guess you’re Hakamichi, right? It’s nice to meet you.” I greeted. No sooner than later, I was caught off-guard by her laughter.

“It’s nice to meet you, too! But~!” she placed her hands on her hips, her grin had grown larger than ever. “I’m not Hakamichi, I’m Misha! This is Hakamichi. Shicchan~!”

The girl, the one I saw using sign language before, nodded once nonchalantly.

This is Shizune Hakamichi. She was the deaf-mute president of Yamaku's Student Council.

In my time, I had never seen anyone to be so determined, so passionate—almost zealous—when it came to pursuing a certain goal. I was captivated, curious, but most certainly enthralled by her very presence and drive—what kept her going despite being a deaf-mute? With my curiosity getting the better of me, I was determined to pursue, to study, and to learn more about her. Thus, I joined the Student Council by choice—this was done despite the fact I was initially pressured by them. Nonetheless, I was given the opportunity to learn about her, and that was a chance of a lifetime. The more I spend my time with her, the more I began to dream about her. I began to learn sign language with reasons of convenience, but part of it was due to my obsession. Her determination, passion, zeal—everything echoed in my mind through the day and before I knew it…

She returned the colors of my life.

I confessed my feelings during Tanabata. She accepted, bashfully nodded before we embraced under the stars. I believed at that time that my life was turning for the better.

But death crept upon us.

As fast as she had returned my colors, it quickly dissipated into a mass of black and white.

It was a very hot summer.

[Hey, Shizune,] I asked after tapping her shoulder. We were out on a walk in town; to our fortune, Misha was absent that day. [Do you have plans during the holidays?]

She watched me momentarily, blinked in amusement towards my question underneath her wide sun hat. Using her teeth, she bit into her blue ice cream to free her hand. [I was planning to call you later and invite you to my home...]

She paused and observed me.

[I bet you’re thinking something dirty.] She continued with a smile—mischievous, nonetheless.

[I was not.]

[Liar…]

The wind blew and caressed her face as we trade our usual banter. It was unusually strong that day, as if God himself blew them directly from his throne. The trees were shaking from left to right, cans and papers were tossed about, and her large sun hat fluttered from the gust before it escaped her head and flew away. Her mouth went agape as she let out a small, muted ‘ah’ at the same time when her sun hat flew. I offered my help to catch it for her, which she declined with pride.

[Don’t trouble yourself,] She said first thing. [I can do this, watch me!]

She quickly finished her ice cream, threw the stick in a nearby bin, and went after her sun hat as it hovered through the plaza before it descended toward the street.

I should have stopped her back then.

She was too focused on reaching it, too occupied to notice that she had crossed the sidewalk and was standing in the middle of the road. She jumped, caught her sun hat, and grinned victoriously over her achievement yet failing to notice an oncoming truck. I ran as fast as my feet can carry, prayed that I’d made it in time to save her, to push her away from harm. I would do anything for that to happen.

I called her name as loud as I can, knowing full-well it was all in vain. “SHIZUNEEEEE…!!”

As if she heard me, she turned one last time before her smile faded the moment she noticed the truck seconds before the impact.

‘CRACK’

I froze.

My feet trembled and my arms shook as I tried to swallow what had happen before me. The sound of the impact echoed in my ear, like a broken tape recorder as it replayed the event over and over again. When I regained my senses, I rushed towards the scene, passing the bewildered truck driver, and ran straight to her. My feet almost gave away when I saw how severe it was as the colors of my world slowly faded.

There she lay, flung from the impact a few meters ahead. Her blood painted a streak across the asphalt, her body was mangled, and her head was bleeding profusely after it cracked from the impact. Still, she held unto her sun hat firmly, unwilling to admit defeat even in the face of death. I made my way to her body and wished it was all just a dream; a nightmare that I’ll soon be awoken from and laugh about its absurdity. I cradled her lifeless body in my arms, hugged her close, and cried.

That day, my world dissipated into that of black and grey.

That day, I stopped seeing the world in colors.


That day, Shizune Hakamichi died.

Image

-END PROLOGUE-



Author's note
Just a fair warning on genre: Romance, Drama, Tragedy.

Yes people, I write tragedies too.
I should stop adding more work to myself...
Last edited by Megumeru on Thu Feb 26, 2015 9:06 am, edited 51 times in total.
Image
They say they hate Shizune? What is this? BLASPHEMY!

SHII-HAEL!
Shizune>Rin>Emi>Hanako>Lilly
"A writer is a light that reveals the world of his story from darkness. Shapes it from nothingness. If the writer stops, the world dies with it." - Alan Wake
Yes, I write stories. Currently working on: The Haunting: A Love Story
BobBobberson
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Re: The Haunting: A Love Story

Post by BobBobberson »

So I'm guessing Shizune will come back as a GHOST?!?! Woooooooo! I mean, with a title like the Haunting, it's a logical conclusion hehe :P
I'm an Engineer

Re: The Haunting: A Love Story

Post by I'm an Engineer »

Well, this is certainly new.
First story I've seen about character death that wasn't Hisao.
I've loved your other stories and I'm excited to read this one.
Spry
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Re: The Haunting: A Love Story

Post by Spry »

If Shizune comes back as a ghost will she be able to talk? Also, this story seems quite interesting. I haven't read a tragedy for a while and may as well start with this one.
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nemz
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Re: The Haunting: A Love Story

Post by nemz »

...what's the JSL sign for "Boo!" :wink:
Rin > Shizune > Emi > Hanako > Lilly
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Scissorlips
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Re: The Haunting: A Love Story

Post by Scissorlips »

This is going to make me feel, I just know it.
Sudden, unexpected deaths via accidents are a bit of a two-edged sword when it comes to plot devices. While it's certainly capable of punching the reader straight in the heart, it also can backfire and make the story more difficult to believe or relate to. That would be a much bigger issue in the case of the actual VN, but in the medium of fanfiction you can have a much more narrow focus, so it's still a useful tool. You probably know all that though. Personally, going into speculation mode I would be interested to see if the story went in the direction of Hisao continuing to try to learn about and understand the woman he loved even after she's gone, rather than a straight up ghost story. It seems like it would have the potential for some really intense emotions, but of course I have no idea where you're headed with this and I'm interested no matter which direction you take it in. Anyway, that was well done and I'm looking forward to more. I think. Not sure if I'm ready for it. ):
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I'm a writer for a visual novel project called Familiarity, where I go by the name Lunch.
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acewing905
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Re: The Haunting: A Love Story

Post by acewing905 »

:( The sadness is just beginning, isn't it? So Shizune's going to come back as a ghost? I hope she isn't going to be some kind of jealous ghost that's going to kill any girl that shows any interest in Hisao, though. That just wouldn't fit her right.
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Elcor
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Re: The Haunting: A Love Story

Post by Elcor »

...I was not expecting that. My emotions will run high with this and I expect tears.
(I don't want tears...but I know you are going to give them)
Fan Fiction writer's are drug dealers and they don't even know it.
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Mirage_GSM
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Re: The Haunting: A Love Story

Post by Mirage_GSM »

I'm an Engineer wrote:Well, this is certainly new.
First story I've seen about character death that wasn't Hisao.
I've loved your other stories and I'm excited to read this one.
Obviously you haven't read any of doomish's early fics yet...
Also, there's an older Death Note crossover, I believe Saki has died in one short one-shot, and I'd probably remember some more if I put my mind to it.

Edit: Duh! How could I forget to mention Closure?
Last edited by Mirage_GSM on Tue May 15, 2012 6:37 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Emi > Misha > Hanako > Lilly > Rin > Shizune

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griffon8 wrote:Kosher, just because sex is your answer to everything doesn't mean that sex is the answer to everything.
Sore wa himitsu desu.
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Re: The Haunting: A Love Story

Post by lolawesome »

Closure is about a death that's not Hisao, and it's one of the best fanfics in my opinion
http://pastebin.com/u/lolawesome

my pastebin - no rins tho
I'm an Engineer

Re: The Haunting: A Love Story

Post by I'm an Engineer »

Mirage_GSM wrote: Obviously you haven't read any of doomish's early fics yet...
Also, there's an older Death Note crossover, I believe Saki has died in one short one-shot, and I'd probably remember some more if I put my mind to it.
lolawesome wrote:Closure is about a death that's not Hisao, and it's one of the best fanfics in my opinion
Thanks for the recommendations, I'll be sure to check these out.
Megumeru
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Re: The Haunting: A Love Story

Post by Megumeru »

Advertisements? In MY fic?

it's more likely than you think

where's that ad blocker... :lol:
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They say they hate Shizune? What is this? BLASPHEMY!

SHII-HAEL!
Shizune>Rin>Emi>Hanako>Lilly
"A writer is a light that reveals the world of his story from darkness. Shapes it from nothingness. If the writer stops, the world dies with it." - Alan Wake
Yes, I write stories. Currently working on: The Haunting: A Love Story
Megumeru
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Chapter I: Funeral

Post by Megumeru »

The Haunting: A Love Story

Chapters
Prologue: Till’ Death...

ACT I -Black and White-
Chapter I: Funeral
Chapter II: Passing
Chapter III: Haunting
ACT II -Light Colors-
Chapter IV: A Drop of Green
Chapter V: Between You and Me
Chapter VI: What Lies Ahead
Chapter VII: Chained
Chapter VIII: Let me Love You
ACT III -Crimson Dusk-
Chapter IX: Dreamland
Chapter X: Sleep Walker
Chapter XI: Nightmare
Chapter XII: Shadows
Chapter XIII: Recollection
ACT IV -Clear Sky-


Chapter I: Funeral

The sun had set by the time I returned to Yamaku High. Even with the company of Misha, the air remained stagnant and depressive. No words were spoken, and no conversation was to be held. There was nothing to say, to laugh, or to humor between us; the fact remained that she had left us and with it our lives and routine. For the first time since I joined, Yamaku High felt foreign, alien, detached; it wasn’t because of the gate that stood before us, the solemn and humble air it had, or the nursing staff we saw regularly running to and fro to the dormitories. It felt more like a void, emptiness; as if the soul that once filled this place had left and never return. I couldn’t bear it, the thought of returning to my room to accept everything that had happened for the past three days made me sick.

It would never be the same again.

Shizune’s gone, and so was my light.

“Hicchan…”

I turned towards the once-bubbly girl I knew. She was dressed in a simple, pitch black garment. “Umm…”

She bit her lip, her will to express something died the moment our eyes met. I waved my hand and told her it was okay, and that there was nothing she could do about it.

“I’m…going back to town,” I replied. “I need a walk of fresh air.”

She solemnly nodded and left me to my well-being as I made my way down the hill once more.

The images of what happened yesterday and that of the last few hours never escaped my mind.

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

The Buddhist priest chanted a section from a sutra as we were seated in rows before the arrangement. In the center of the room was the funeral, delicately and intricately decorated with flowers, a spirit table—an Ihai—and lastly the portrait of Shizune. Seated at the front rows were the family and relatives of Shizune who came to pay their respects. I couldn’t name any of them, nor do I recognize their faces; the only person I knew at first glance was Lilly and what apparently was her brother. Shizune’s father was also easily distinguishable, seated at the far right just a few seats in front of me. He wept and cried throughout the entire ceremony, asking ‘why’ over and over again.

It was ironic for both Misha and I; we were invited by her to celebrate life.

But instead, we were there to mourn her death.

We were given incense to be offered to the urn three times as the priest completed the sutra—a tradition, nonetheless. The ‘Wake’ ended uneventfully, all with the exception Shizune’s father who mourned continuously beside her casket. I felt terrible; partly because I was blaming myself to have placed her in this state, yet I was in no position to say any of this to him—nor would it made things any better. It was late in the evening by the time the ceremony ended, and according to tradition, there was to be one more ceremony to attend before she was to be cremated. Lilly’s ‘brother’—or sister, after I was introduced—offered Misha and I a ride to an inn they stayed for the night. I declined and instead opted to stay vigil in the room; this was done despite the protests from Lilly and Akira herself. Nevertheless, Hideaki—Shizune’s little brother after his short introduction—persuaded Lilly and Akira to allow me to stay; he told Akira that he needed the company, someone who knew Shizune more than just a friend. Misha offered to join, but was declined. I thanked him after, to which he replied with a humble nod.

“I just think it’s the right thing to do; sis would like that, I believe,” he sighed. “I can’t stay in one room with a girl too—and someone has to help me watch father!”

I was awake for the duration of the night and remained vigil. I couldn’t sleep, and even if I wanted to I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Hideaki alone to watch over his grief-stricken father. He chanted a number of prayers—a ritual, perhaps—to help her soul find peace. In between his prayers, he sobbed, wept, and cried while Hideaki patiently sat beside him and provided him with a blanket. Occasionally, Hideaki removed his glasses and press his fingers between his eyes; he acted strong and tried to shrug away the sadness—and even maintained his act throughout the night. I admired his stubbornness at that time as it vaguely reminded me of Shizune. Her body rested peacefully in the center, cleaned from the injury she received from the accident and dressed in a humble white kimono. When I looked over and saw her lay there, I couldn’t help but think how beautiful and peaceful she was. Yet each time I looked at her, I was constantly reminded how she came to be like this.

It was my fault. If only I…

I…



I stopped. There was nothing I could do. If I were to die that day—to take her place—wouldn’t that be the same? Wouldn’t she grieve about my loss, just as I was? The more I thought about it, the more I began to think about Shizune and how broken she would be if it was me.

I couldn’t bear to think about it, to see her cry for me I just…I couldn’t.

My head ached, my eyes were weary, and my body gave away as I slowly succumbed to the fatigue and the stress. Even then, I refused to let my body rest.

I don’t want to see her die in my dreams.

I was afraid.

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

The funeral took place the next morning under a cloudy sky. We were given incense once again to follow a similar ritual as the priest read the sutra. She was given a new precept name—a Kaimyou—written entirely in Kanji that was much too old and obsolete for me to read, supposedly meant to prevent the deceased from returning when called by her original name. I didn’t bother to learn the ‘name’, nor do I want to; Shizune is ‘Shizune’, and nothing would change that. After the ceremony, we were permitted to see her one last time before the coffin was to be sealed. Shizune’s father was the first to set flowers around her head and shoulders. He whispered words of goodbye, then quietly walked away and slumped on his seat. Hideaki broke into tears; when he saw her solemn face that rested peacefully in the casket, he couldn’t maintain his charade any longer and sobbed beside his father. Lilly and Akira paid their respects and set their flowers neatly. The blind girl traced her hand around the contours of her face one last time, recalled their brief time together, and asked her for forgiveness before cupping her hands and gave into her sadness.

Misha stood still. Her body shuddered as she sobbed; the flowers she was supposed to set around her were tightly clenched in her fist. She had known Shizune ever since I transferred into Yamaku High—maybe longer. As I stood behind her, I realized how we weren’t much different. To her, Shizune meant more than just a friend; Shizune was the centerpiece of her life, her lighthouse during a storm, and her muse.

Just like what Shizune was to me.

For a moment, I felt like I understood her. I rested my hand on her stiff shoulder and caused her to flinch. She sniffled, kindly told me that everything was alright, and set her flowers around her shoulders and head. With her hands free, she signed one last time before she made her way down the aisle.

[Rest in peace, Shicchan,] she signed as her tears overflowed from her cheeks and broke free from her restraints. [I love you.]

When it was my turn to give my last respects, I couldn’t move. My lips were sealed, my tongue was tied; I was literally frozen in time. How she lay there peacefully, sleeping like a doll made me somewhat happy inside yet similarly, it crushed me like a ton of bricks. Nothing I’d say would made it any better; she wouldn’t magically rose from the coffin, announced in sign that it was a prank, and gave a thousand-watt smile as if nothing had happened. I wouldn’t wake up from this nightmare, laugh about how absurd it was, and told her how she died in my dreams and joked about it. No, this was reality. It was cruel and unforgiving—merciless.

Shizune was gone. As much as I hated to admit it, this was the sick reality I was presented with.

I set my flowers and gently stroke her face. “Hey, Shizune…”

“I know you can’t hear me but,” my lips felt as if it moved on its own as it whispered goodbyes. “When I first saw you, I didn’t know what to do but be fascinated by your drive, your determination, and your passion.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“I wish I could talk to you once more, Shizune. I wish…”

The words choked on me. I was far too grieved to finish, and the weight was too heavy to bear. I couldn’t say another word. “T-that was selfish of me after I… I…”

I froze. When I observed the serenity of her slumber, I felt the blame fell on my shoulders.

“I’m sorry…”

I stroke her hair one last time before I made my way out of the funeral home.

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

I sat on the stairs of the funeral home. My soul ached for an escape from this place, a different reality where none of this happened. In a few hours from now, her body would be transported by the hearse to the crematorium; despite Hideaki’s request to have me attend it, I preferred not to watch Shizune slide into the chamber. The thought of it alone sent shivers down my spine. I looked up, watch as the sky growls with the steady escalation of dark clouds above the city, and sighed—the day just couldn’t get any moodier than it already had. I rested myself steadily, remembering the short but precious moments we spent together before the accident as the ceremony continued behind me.

“Hisao…?”

A familiar voice greeted me, followed with a recognizable ‘tip-tap’ of a cane.

It was Lilly.

“Oh, Lilly…” I answered. “Need something?”

“Not much,” she replied reassuringly and sighed. “Akira told me where you are, and I think it’s a good idea to talk to you. How are you holding up?”

I shook my head. “I’m fine, Lilly. Thanks.”

She sighed once more. As much as I appreciated her concern, I believed it wasn’t the right time to approach me on this subject.

“She…means a lot to you.”

“Yeah…”

There was silence. The ceremony behind us was slowly drawn to a close.

“Hisao…”

“Damn it, not now Lilly.”

“I know,” she replied with a soft tone. My chest ached with regret from my rather strong response, yet I couldn’t take them back. Instead, she replied with a smile and an apology before continuing, “But if you need someone to talk to, I’m willing to listen. Please, don’t take it too hard.”

“Thanks…”

She nodded and returned to the funeral home, back to Akira’s side. Lilly was a kind and understanding person, the ‘Nightingale’ of the battlefield, a saint. She cared for others as much as she did for her family—sometimes more than her own good. Shizune told me a lot of things about her; about her lack of discipline, organization, and her knack for procrastination hidden behind her kind and caring demeanor. To be honest, I was slightly hurt to have heard those remarks from Shizune herself—then again, she knew her longer than I did which put me at odds. I was in no place to judge, nor do I have the right to; but it was from my observation alone that made me believe that Lilly was someone you could rely upon. Within that short conversation, I found comfort—a safe haven from the darkness that had overwhelmed me.

The rain fell soon after. Akira offered Misha and me a ride to the train station to drop us off before she rejoined the Hakamichis to the crematorium. We agreed.

We waved goodbye. I watched from under the safety of the station’s roof as the car that Akira drove disappeared under the guise of the rain.

In a short instance, I felt my heart moved—just a little.

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

I found myself in the middle of the park, not far from where the accident took place. For the past ten minutes, I had been wandering aimlessly down the curb as far as my feet could carry. The bustling sound of the city’s nightlife was strangely welcoming against the backdrop of the drizzle—comforting, even. It helped me forget what had happened, about the accident, Shizune, and the funeral. I began to remember Lilly’s words after the funeral—‘don’t take it too hard’ she said, and I began to think that she was right. There was no use of me to remain saddened by her loss—what was done, was done. Fate had determined her to die that day; there was nothing I could do about it. I shouldn’t be depressed about this—after all, ‘there are many fish in the sea’, right…?

…right…?

I felt my heart stopped. The moment I reached the area, everything came back to me like a tidal wave. I stood motionless by the curb, before me was a pile of condolences and flowers that were neatly stacked by the railing that separated the road; a picture of her was present at the center of it. Once again the memory of her accident replayed itself and tormented me, as if telling me that it was my fault and how it wouldn't end this way if I stopped her. I clenched my teeth, held my tears, and cried silently as people came and went. Maybe it was my fault...

“Poor girl,” said an elderly passerby. His sudden appearance startled me, yet he kindly replied with a gentle smile before he stood beside me and observed the small memorial. “Such a pity…do you know her, young man?”

I nodded.

I was in need of a company, someone I could talk to. Lilly offered me her help, but I believed it was too early for her to intervene. But this stranger…maybe if it was someone else, I thought, it would be okay. “I was her lover before the accident.”

“I see…” he pursed his lips. “Tell me young man, do you still love her?”

I held my breath and pondered the question. Do I still love her?

The old man kept his eyes trained, as if pressuring me for an answer that even I was unsure of. I kept telling myself ever since the funeral to let go, move on, and forget; even Lilly was concerned about me. Yet here I am, standing in the crime scene pondering a question like a criminal before a judge. That made me to be a fool, doesn't it? To still be in love with someone who had passed away in such a young age—but was I ever in love with her? I knew her for about a season, and we dated for about a month before the accident. If so, then what am I here for? I was instantly reminded about the vow that took place in every wedding ceremony which symbolized the bond and the love between couples; in particular, ‘till’ death do us apart’. It held a powerful meaning, a bond—a connection—that binds the two souls until mortality played its role and ended it. But what about now…? Does the same feeling still held true even after death?

I couldn’t find the answer—not now.

And yet I nodded. Even if it was just a lie, I wanted more time to overcome this. The old man smiled.

“She must be a very lucky girl to have someone like you.”

“Yeah…maybe…”

“Don’t feel sorry for yourself, young man. She would be happy,” the old man walked away, but not before he tapped my shoulder. “She would be very-very happy if she ever hears it from you.”

I watched as the old man walked away before he disappeared into the crowd. A cold breeze caressed me as a warning to how late it was and caused me to shiver. My wrist watch indicated it was half-pass eleven—three hours since I left Yamaku for a stroll that was meant to forget, yet instead it added more questions than answers. The weather was getting colder by the minute and I believed it was way pass curfew to be walking outside of the dormitories. Despite how much I hated it, I had to face tomorrow’s reality that screamed ‘Shizune was no longer with us’. I had to, there was no other choice.

I had to move on.

I smiled at her picture. She was smiling in her portrait, as if satisfied with her life and was telling me to ‘go’. I guess…I really should move on. “Good night, Shizune.”

“Thank you.”

I returned to the dormitory around fifteen minutes before midnight. The night nurses and the guards questioned my intention and reason for returning pass curfew—concerned, nonetheless. I gave them an honest reply and told them how I needed the walk to get over ‘something’ I left omitted from their interrogation. When I reached the door to my room, I could faintly hear the snore of my hall-mate across from me before noticing how quiet and serene the corridor was in the middle of the night. Tomorrow, I had to face the reality I was placed in and swallow it like a bitter medicine. Shizune wouldn’t want me to grieve over her death any further than this; tomorrow, I had to change.

I swallowed a few pills I needed to survive. Ever since her involvement in my life, I never bothered to think about the ‘portable life support’ and how reliant I was to it; now, that oppressive feeling returned to mock me. Tired, I killed the lights and closed my eyes.


That night, I had a dream…

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-END CHAPTER I-
Last edited by Megumeru on Thu Feb 26, 2015 7:05 am, edited 29 times in total.
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They say they hate Shizune? What is this? BLASPHEMY!

SHII-HAEL!
Shizune>Rin>Emi>Hanako>Lilly
"A writer is a light that reveals the world of his story from darkness. Shapes it from nothingness. If the writer stops, the world dies with it." - Alan Wake
Yes, I write stories. Currently working on: The Haunting: A Love Story
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nemz
Posts: 531
Joined: Tue Apr 03, 2012 8:39 am

Re: The Haunting: A Love Story *UPDATED*

Post by nemz »

Yep, gotta get all the expected preliminaries out of the way. Will be nice to see the story get truely started though.
Rin > Shizune > Emi > Hanako > Lilly
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Elcor
Posts: 155
Joined: Wed Apr 18, 2012 10:45 pm

Re: The Haunting: A Love Story *UPDATED*

Post by Elcor »

I..just..damn, it just hits you hard.

it also made me think of this Walking In The Rain
Fan Fiction writer's are drug dealers and they don't even know it.
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