The Question

girl cry

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“Why?” She asked beyond sobs. Looking at her face, she’s as close as her 5 year-old self years ago asking her mother why would her father have to leave. But it’s not like that. That she wished it will just be like that. That everytime her father left, there’s always been an assurance of him coming back.

Yet this one is different.

Her body was shivering from an inner impulse of unnamed pain. Her arms, bloody and numb held tightly the un-breathing flesh of her beloved , already damped with her tears.

Her childhood friend, her brother, her first love. He was just sixteen and why?

She just kept herself crying. For every moment, she wished this was just like back when she was a child, that when someone leaves, he will comeback. Truth is, she had grown already, she knew all about the laws of death and life, all the mockeries of fate and all the hurts of reality. Still, death was out of her own comprehension.

What she just understood was that he left, he will never come back. What’s worst, she had never even heard him saying goodbye.

“Why?” she asked again.

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3 responses to “The Question

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