It was dark. And the tunnel was empty.

Jennie closed her eyes. All she could hear was the sounds of vehicle moving.

And the sound of rain outside.

It's almost peaceful this way. She can forget whatever happened.

She opened her eyes and opened her fist only to see two pieces of glow sticks.

When she was a kid, she always loved to see glow sticks. How the colors blends with the darkness around her and makes it as if the darkness is nothing.

She bends one of it and it lights up, radiating pink lights all around her.

She smiles and slowly moves her feet, dancing to the imaginary melodies inside her head as she moved the glow stick with her.

It always make her feel better. She doesn't care if people on the moving vehicles judge her or think that she's crazy. This made her felt better. It felt peaceful this way.

She bends another one, it lights up, radiating blue lights around her. It seems brighter this time, now that two glow sticks is lighting.

The colors blend in the dark, radiating purple light. She smiles. He was right, colors does make you feel better.

Then she can no longer hear anything. All she could hear was the imaginary melodies inside her head, letting her feet move, following the melodies.

She moves the glow sticks in front of her eyes, leaving pink and blue colored streaks behind.

She remembers that one thing she used to ask him.

"Why are you so into blending those colors? It seems pretty boring" she'd ask as she stares at his back.

He was facing this big easel as he moves the brushes, leaving trails of colors blending behind it. He'd stop and turn to face her with a smile. "Jennie, can't you feel it?"

And she'd raise her eyebrow. "Feel what?"

He smiles even wider. The smile that feels like the spring sunshine. The smile that always warmed her and calmed her, no matter what happened. "The colors. The way they blend with each other" he'd say. "The way they create this imaginary melodies inside your head. The melodies that tell you to dance and move your hands even more"

Back then, Jennie would think that he's just being crazy, for, who would even feel colors? They are dead thing.

But now she knew, they are alive. Even more alive than her. Even more alive than anything.

For colors were the bridge that connected her to him.

He who would always listen to her story, who's always there for her, who came to her when she's at the deep end of frustration. When she thought of ending everything.

It was also raining that day.

He would stand in front of her