As I rouse from a deep sleep that I barely managed to have in all my life, I was first aware of the coolness of the air and the rain fragrance. The usual sunlight that welcomed me every morning was nowhere to be seen. Only the breezy wind that stopped by. I checked on my phone, realizing that I didn’t have any class for the day, except the self-defense class at night. Aha. Morning is wonderful. I was still feeling a little bit drowsy as I rouse up. Aside from my own sounds of breathing, there was nothing else to be heard. I had always loathed the silence, which explained why I always had my earphones anywhere I went. Music had always been there, accompanying me, whether its sunny, or rainy, it’s always been there. I my playlist from my phone, Charlie Puth’s, Some Type of Love was playing on the background as I slowly and reluctantly dragged my feet towards the bathroom. Rubbing my knuckles onto my eyes, I stared at the reflection on the mirror.

            A pair of dark brown orbs was staring back at me. It looked so stern, but somehow I could see the solemn swimming in the gaze. I looked away; I couldn’t bear it. It reminded me of the pain which I had to bear with. People say beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I could not decipher what it really meant, as I barely even managed to get lost into my own eyes. But I remembered how his eyes were staring into mine; his gaze was both of a matured leader and a dangerous murderer. But once one of those smile reached his eyes, the mysterious gaze had all vanish. All that remain is a pure child like gaze, accompanied by his toothy bunny smile. But it’s still a mystery on how I unable to see his future.

            I shook my head for a few times and felt so refreshed after a nice warm shower. I browse into the book I borrowed from the library few days ago. The book might help me to think less about Jiwon. Yes, the book would help me. So, the book on how the protagonist would write a letter to his lover every single day had captivated me. The fact that his lover was dead didn’t stop him from keeping in contact with her. Death is permanent, but so did the memories. But the souls need to move on. The only way the protagonist found his tranquil was by writing those letters. He would always placed those letters in the mailbox of his house.

            I closed the book and reach for a nice piece of blank paper, holding my pen with my shaky hands, I began to write a letter.

To: Mom, in Heaven.

            Mom, how are you up there? Sorry, it took me so long to actually writes to you. I’ve been living well. Been eating my meals well. I studied law now, it’s hard, but I think I can manage it. June is here with me. Oh you probably won’t know him, he’s my bestfriend, and we have been friends since high school. He’s a pain in the but he kept me feel alive most of the time.

            It’s raining now, when I’m writing this letter to you. Only days ago the air was warm, but it’s very cold now. But I’m not feeling cold at all when I’m writing this letter to you. Be safe, Mom. Be happy. Sometimes its upsetting me that the only memory that was crystal clear in my mind was how I saw your future when I held your hand on the day we went for picnic at the park for the last time. The puddle of blood, the streams of tears on your cheek, the puffy air breath mouthing my name. That was all I could remember clearly. I could barely remember whether you completed the story of Goddess Iris or not. I searched for the book, or even online for the story, but nothing