Cytosine

“Seoul is a good idea.” I kept telling myself over and over again. I needed change. I couldn’t work as a biochemist in a small town like mine. I had to move to the capital and do something about my life. I had promised him and myself that I would make something out of my life. That was the sole reason why I finished university. The only reason why I stayed doing what I always did.

The train was stacked with people. It would leave in twenty minutes and there were only five spots left or so. I didn’t care. My eyes were glued on the window. I didn’t want to feel regretful, that’s why I came here. Something drove me here. Maybe I could find answers in the capital. Maybe.

I didn’t know whether I would ever be able to start a new life with someone else. It was tragic, but knowing that the only person you ever truly cared about died far from your grasp was hard. I never realized until the letters stopped coming. Until he told me he farewell. Until he breathed his last breath.

Upon getting the last letter four years ago, I mourned as if I had lost everything I ever lived for. I couldn’t really explain to myself or others what was happening, but the mere thought of him dying in so much pain caused my own brain to explode as well. I felt sick for ages, maybe I still did.

He was my best friend, the person I needed. We were connected by a mysterious person whose name I still didn't know. According to him, it was not important. Maybe I had met him too, but he never approached me. I didn’t know. The only thing I couldn’t stop doing was writing letters, but there was no one to read them. Realizing that was even harder.

I never dreamt of him again. There were no blue dandelions, two suns and a deadly pond. I had nightmares every single night about a dark, mossy green forest that kept luring me into insanity. However, knowing myself, I was a tough nut to crack. I had changed after the letters. I had become the person who I wanted to be, even though I was still working on it.

“Is it far until first class?” an darkhaired man asked me, almost blinded by the dynamic events of common society. He seemed out of place. “Someone treated me on something special, but I kind of lost them. I needed to use the restroom, you see.” He seemed like a nice person, but his eyes were mourning. He seemed so tired.

“Not far now. Just keep moving ahead,” I pointed. “Have a nice trip.” I smiled at him and got the same thing returned. It made me feel good. I tried to feel good. It was hard, looking at the pile of letters that I always carried with me. It was as if his ghost was still around, watching over me.

I always had the letters on me, but never read them. I couldn’t bring myself to. Even though four years had passed by, I couldn’t.

“Just get on the goddamn train!” I heard someone shout. It was not someone who worked here, I saw it. He was standing next to the conductor in the doorway, trying to stop him from getting the train to take off, but couldn’t. He kept screaming. “You have ten seconds and if you don’t go, you will be punished, young man.”

I guessed someone didn’t want to head for the capital. I felt the same. If it wasn’t for the expensive ticket,  I would’ve bailed already. It was scaring me, being alone inside a big city like that. My heart felt heavy and before I knew it, I