Chapter 1: Prologue

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Autumn 2013

I look ahead to tomorrow.

But can I leave yesterday behind?

It seem so strange

It’s like you’re light-years away from me.

However near is still so far. *

I pressed the enter button, the thud sound echoed inside my room. My mind are, filled with thoughts, questions. All of them were futile, arguing whether I will send this or not. In the end… I held my mouse pointing at something, I read “SEND” and clicked on it. Though I know, writing those following words are sappy, I still can’t believe, I wrote something like that. From the very back of my mind, I also knew that, after sending this, I still have to wait for light years to receive a response coming from her. Which I know, it won’t bound to happen.

"HAPPY third death anniversary"

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I sighed as I make a friction out of my two hands. I turned off the air conditioner of my car. It’s getting chilly as I thought. I gaze up, through the windshield. The hot ball of sun was supposed to be displayed in the sky. Soon, dusk will fell. It’s either a touch of azure or orange with a glimpse of pink, her favorite. But neither of them came true. The clouds were dense and opaque.

I’m a sight this afternoon: wearing overlay clothes; a gray sweater and a black jacket, jeans, and a navy blue scarf around my neck and a snow boot for my footwear.

I looked down at the chair on the passenger side. I picked up the bouquet of mixed yellow orange dandelion flowers and the white parachute ball. Ever why it is called dandelion? The name dandelion is a corruption of the French dent de lion, meaning "lion's tooth", referring to the coarsely toothed leaves.

I step down. It’s always been this, in this place—hushed; not even a birds chirping, or a whine of the air and it’s always been like this, I’m always alone whenever I go here. However, I can feel the waft of cold breeze of fall. People sometimes describe this niche, as tower of silence, coldest place on town and city of the dead. Jonghyun even joke once, this is the “most popular place in town: people are dying to get in” I shook my head and smile. But for me, this is the permanent retirement park.

I walked closer to the grave, which I always visit three years consecutively. The last place I saw her. I squat down and place the dandelion flowers on the grass. I trace the name which was imprinted on the gravestone, I look at my finger. There weren’t even evidence of dust on it. Indeed, everybody still remembers her and even cares for her.

And I'm glad about it.

I barely open my mouth, I want to say something, instead a small curve formed on my lips and I shook my head, I let out a very light chuckle, if I would say it aloud, it would be weird. As if I'm talking to myself. I open my mouth again and spoke softly, “I miss you.” All of the fine hairs on my body started to ascend, as I realized that I really said that and the fact that it’s getting colder every minute.

I stood up, and pluck something from my pocket—-cigarette your best friend during this kind of weather. Then I turned around and wonder. How do these people react when they know that they’re dead? Do they still want a second chance at life? How does it feel to be lifeless? DEAD to be exact.

But being left behind seems inert to me now.