Set Fire To The Tears
Candles In Heaven
Her smile lingers in his heart.
He didn’t know what he was looking for. All he knew was that once he found it, he would know. He knew he was doing the right thing, looking for her secret treasure box. After all, she had said that she kept half her heart in that little box; her memories and everything she loved. And who else would ever still remember that? Who else would want to keep it, to treasure it? But he wasn’t sure anymore. Did he deserve it? It seemed a lifetime ago when he had , and asked why couldn’t she show him the contents yet. But she had only smiled and said the time had to be right.
When will the time be right? It was too late now.
Maybe he knew, deep inside him that he never deserved her love, never deserved the devotion she had given him. For as soon as he stepped inside, his sneaker bringing up a cloud of dust and ash making his eyes water (or was it from the pain of reopening old wounds?), he realised he wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to face the past. He had been trying so desperately to run away from it, run away from the pain, run away from love. And it was too hard, too soon. But he knew he had to persevere. How could continue living with himself knowing that he had let her go?
And so he started searching in the remains of what had been a beautiful room for a beautiful girl. The desolate grey that surrounded him even as he sifted through the grime mirrored his horrible heart. Every object he touched in the room was an icicle shoved down his throat and the memories flooded back to him in distinct flashes. Her tears. Him leaving her. Lying to her. Cheating on her.
But yet even as he was an inch to succumbing to the cold, to the fear, a ray of sunlight burst the dark clouds above and shone through the dilapidated roof bringing the stale, dusty air into sharp relief. As if some unseen force was guiding him, he slowly stood up from where he had collapsed on the floor and made his careful way to her wardrobe. It had fallen in on itself, the white wood scorched black and with a thick layering of ash upon it. Maybe it was fate how the fire had burnt out everything except for this. And it was in the darkness that he saw it: his glimmer of hope.
Slowly, he reached into the crevice between the planks of timber and the moment the box left the wardrobe, it collapsed into itself. Barely registering what had just happened, Kyuhyun just stood there, numb, as he wiped the dust off the lid.
Memories and secrets locked inside.
Younha. It had been all he could think about since the fire had stolen her away from him. Or was it him who had let her go? He needed her so desperately, he needed her to wrap her arms around him, wipe his tears and tell him everything was alright. Yet, the only thing Kyuhyun could hold onto was this simple tin box. But even as he gathered up his courage to open her secret, he almost lost it. He had forgotten what she looked like, what she smelled like, what the last thing she had said to him. He had forgotten everything except her love. And for a fleeting moment he could feel her very presence in the room beside him as she had always been. He gripped the box with a renewed passion; it was the thing keeping him sane - sane from guilt, sane from grief. A single teardrop mixed with the ash on the box and he drew a ragged breath as he rubbed his finger along the charred edge, the smell of sulphur still remaining, defacing his love’s box. But there was a hint of vanilla essence causing him to whip his head around searching wildly for the sweet smelling hair that he had so often buried his face into.. But what had he expected? The room was devoid of life except for his shrunken form. And so, with shaking fingers he lifted the lid.
Memories of us will fade.
The first thing he saw was the photo. He could remember it as if it had been yesterday, when in fact, it had been almost a year - their first date. He had been nervous, strange seeing how he usually never was. And if she had been nervous too, she hid it well. But it was the beginning of their story, the beginning of the love but also, the heartbreak. And since then, Kyuhyun didn’t know when to live a day without her. Maybe it was this very reason that he had chosen to neglect her, chosen to distance himself from her overwhelming passion but most of all, chosen to break both their hearts.
But this photo was the bittersweet memory of a perfect time in a perfect place long, long ago. She had taken her camera and, slightly embarrassed, asked if she could take a photo of them.
He nodded and smiled at the sight of her checking her camera. Her hair created a curtain between them as she bent over to uncap the lens. Gently, he tucked her hair behind her ear and she looked up, squinted slightly against the bright sun, smiling back at him. He loved to see her smile. She was his sun, his everything. She placed the camera in front of them, and smiled cheesily at the camera. She looked over at him quickly and blushed to see him gazing intently at her. She lightly slapped him and told him to pose for the photo. Truth was, he just couldn’t take his eyes off her and her beauty bathed in the gentle rays of the sun.
It was all his fault. All his goddamn fault. He was a stupid idiot for being a stuck-up pompous fool that had let the best thing in his life pass him by. He regretted it. He regretted every moment he hadn’t been with her, kissed her, told her he loved her. Because he did. He loved her with all his heart. A pained howl left his lips as he shaking placed the photograph into his pocket. Next to his heart.
As he took out yet more photos of their happiest times together he realised that he had truly lost sight of what had mattered most. You never know what you’ve got until it’s gone, and life had made it so hard to love. Underneath were some compositions with musical notes drawn gracefully on the stave and lyrics scribbled in between. He perused these beautiful melodies and as he tried to hum the notes, his voice gave out on him and he could only choke back a barely stifled sob and let the papers drop from his shaking hands.
A single flame burns.
It was then he saw the candle. Just a normal candle; although it was more of a waxy stump with a blackened wick. The very sight of it made him feel sick with loathing. She had put a candle in her box of memories and treasures even though it was the reason for her death? She had cherished the flames that she dubbed ‘eerily beautiful’ and ‘out of this world’ even though they were the sole reason she was gone? For they had snatched her away from life, away from him, easy as winking. It was ironic then, the candle being there, ironic that she herself had treasured the candle, almost as if treasuring her death.
He suddenly had the overwhelming urge to grab the candle and throw it as far away as possible but he knew he couldn’t, not when Younha had placed it inside for safe-keeping. And there was still one more object in the box. Her necklace. The silver chain and locket caught the light and reflected it as it revolved slowly, dangling from his fingers.
He had never seen her without it, not in the time he had known her. But then it hit him, he had seen her once without it. She had turned up at his office unexpected and her neck was strangely bare without the usual chain. But he had dismissed her like all the other times and she had left without a word.
He felt incredibly guilty. He knew it was wrong, ignoring her like that. And so, the moment work finished, he raced to her home. He raced to her home just in time to see it alight in the most hauntingly mesmerising manner. Her house was caressed by the twirlings wings of fire. He stood there, shocked speechless until he heard her cry from within the house. It was the most devastating thing he would ever hear in his lifetime. And so he found himself sprinting towards her house, pushing the firefighter out of the way. He screamed her name until his voice was reduced to croaks and even then he called out. She had to answer him. She had to come back to him.
Smoke inhalation. That’s how they explained it. But how could someone so untouched by the fire be dead? How could such a perfect woman lying almost as if just asleep be dead? But she didn’t answer his pleas of help and he knew she would never, ever do that. She was gone. Gone.
It was unbearable. The pain. The loss. Everything blurred around him as his legs gave out under him and he fell with a muted thud onto the cold burnt floor. His hand clenched tight over her necklace; his link to her very being. That would be the only thing he would have left of her; the necklace and a few photos. He forced his fingers to relax and once more he gazed upon the unblemished silver case. With his free hand he gently clicked open the locket. That one sound was eerily loud in the cold silent room.
Happiness of yesterday trapped inside.
As if she had just laid it down, the photo was there. She had shown it to him once; the memory inside. Once again, he laid his eyes upon the happiness of the past. He was kissing her cheek in the photograph and she was smiling happily at the camera. Kyuhyun had never understood the need for photos. He had believed, foolishly, that photographs were a waste of space. After all, if you had everything you needed right in front of you, why would you need to take a flimsy documentation of it? But now, photographs would last, but memories? Memories could fade over time. He was scared, afraid of time. Time passed too fast and he never knew he had to cherish it before it was too late.
He snapped the locket shut, his knuckles clenched white over it. He was shaking again, with grief, with the painful memories that wouldn’t stop flooding his mind and perhaps even anger. Anger at himself for not cherishing every moment he had with her. Why hadn’t he held her close and never let her go? He should have told her he loved her over and over again until his voice gave out. He could have stayed beside her instead of focusing on other trivial matters. For what else mattered but her?
Nothing mattered anymore
He didn’t know what to do anymore. So he stayed there, on the ground shaking until he could finally regain some sense back. It was then he realised the writing engraved on the other side of her locket.
Forever With You.
His thumb traced the flowery cursive writing and again realised just how much Younha had loved him. She had loved him so much. And he missed her so much. How could he ever go on? She had been his equilibrium and now that she was gone, his life was out of balance. He missed her touch, her smile, her laughter, her very presence.. And he would give anything to have her back with him. Anything to even see her again and tell her how much he loved her.
It came as a whisper, so soft, Kyuhyun though he had imagined it. But it came again, calling for him, a woman’s plea like the rustle of leaves blown away in autumn. His tear stricken face slowly turned to face the doorway. It wasn’t possible, yet it was. She was there, right in front of him.
Where do i go from here?
“Kyuhyun.”
Another whisper, another plea. Chills ran down Kyuhyun spine and he stood up, shaking, and dropping the necklace onto the scorched floor where it fell into a crevice. He hardly noticed. All he could do was stare at Younha. She smiled at him but he still saw the tear fall from her eye and in one smooth stride he stepped over to her to catch it.
His hand went right through her.
His eyes searched her own and she looked down at herself. Kyuhyun finally tore his eyes from her and noticed the faint white glow around her pale skin and her white dress which was blowing in a non-existent wind. Her bare feet did not touch the ashen floor but rather, inches above it, away from the grime while she herself was pure. Kyuhyun’s nails cut into his palm as he clenched his fist in anger and frustration. What was wrong with him? Why was Younha here to torment him more? He was already in agony.
“I missed you.”
Her voice. He had almost forgotten it. He had missed it so much.
“I-i’m sorry.”
His voice cracked horribly. He blinked away hot tears threatening to fall again and just stared at her. He needed to remember her, and he needed her to forgive him. He needed to know if she still loved him. And then she reached out with her slender fingers facing him. He looked at her in confusion and she smiled her hand still beckoning to him. But then he saw the flames - the red wings of fire, again. They twirled around Younha and her dress, caressing her with their fiery fingers and reached onwards.
His breathe caught in his throat and he took a step back. But Younha ignored the flames and still, she beckoned, her eyes boring into his own with a silent question.
And so, he took a step closer, hardly noticing how the flames behind her were slowly creeping up on him. He reached out his hand unusually still and his fingers closed the gap between them.
Set fire to the tears.
The tendrils of fire closed around their intertwined fingers. And yet, their tears were flowing over them. They felt no pain, they felt no grief. It was love. Love that was holding them together and keeping them joined even through death. Nothing would ever separate them again. Tears spilled out uncontrollably and she smiled at him. Her lips moved silently, mouthing words he needed to hear, mouthing the words imprinted in his heart.
I love you.
There is a scorched photo drifting on the wind. It stops and settles on the pavement for a moment before leaping up again on the wind’s back. There is a magic in photographs. The memories are captured behind it, to a place where time had stopped for the young couple in the photo. He is staring at her, his eyes full of love, adoration. She is blushing slightly, looking embarrassed at the camera which is intruding on their intimacy. She clicks the shutter button anyway, preserving their love. It is a small piece of forever. The photograph drifts to a slow stop next to a stub of a candle - all that’s left of a horrible fire that had enveloped that very love. But in a way, it’s their own way of forever.
After all, she had always loved candles.
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