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Description

Drip.

A sound of water droplet was echoing in the Old Mansion but ---

Drip.

--- it wasn't water.

Drip.

But rather ---

Drip.

--- a red liquid that's splattering on the floor and running from Namine's wrist.

Drip.

-- It was blood.

And there she was, walking her way to her room. She was out of her mind now, she didn't know what she was doing anymore. She had just come from the kitchen, grabbing a knife, then onto her arm first. She pressed it hard enough and began to slide it down, making her skin bleed. Repeating the process until she reached her wrist.

She looked down on it --- eyes dull, like she was already dead long ago; tear-streaked face, like she washed her face with water; her eyes swelling. She remembers everything now.

She remembers how she feels happy. She remembers how natural her smile felt. She remembers how she slowly become alone. She remembers those nights she kept on crying. She remembers how she lost her memories and her reason why she erased it herself. She remebers ... The feeling of being left alone and the agonizing pain of feeling lonely. She remembers all of it.

The girl knows she can do it again, but what's the point? If she erased her own memories before and remembered now, it'll happen again. History repeats itself.

Namine stopped at her bedroom door, staring at it for a few minutes before opening it. She blinked as the whiteness of her room became visible to her. She entered her room.

First step. Drip. Second. Drip. Third. Drip. And so on, as she gone near to her bed, which was covered in white. Sitting down on it, she knew she was staining it with her blood, but she doesn't care. No one does. Even if she'll lay down here and close her eyes forever.

She then looked behind her -- a wall. Namine then moved toward it, writing random things on it.

'Why do people leave me behind?'

'It hurts ...'

'Did I do something wrong?'

'I'm tired.'

'No one cared to stay.'

'Why?'

Her hand trailed down the wall as she wrote something after 'Why?' then suddenly fell sideward onto the bed, her breath hitching. She's dying.

She let a single tear run down her face as she was starting a hard time to breathe. Her vision was getting blurry, and she knew she was almost there. There was no turning back now. With few more breathes, she let out a sob. And with her last, she slowly closed her eyes.

Then everything was quiet. No more sniffles, no more sobs, no more dripping, no more breathes. She was dead. There was nothing left anymore, except for a body that it's owner chose to bury her memories with death and a wall of blood where she wrote the things which was left unspoken.

'I'm sorry I existed.'

Description

Drip.

A sound of water droplet was echoing in the Old Mansion but ---

Drip.

--- it wasn't water.

Drip.

But rather ---

Drip.

--- a red liquid that's splattering on the floor and running from Namine's wrist.

Drip.

-- It was blood.

And there she was, walking her way to her room. She was out of her mind now, she didn't know what she was doing anymore. She had just come from the kitchen, grabbing a knife, then onto her arm first. She pressed it hard enough and began to slide it down, making her skin bleed. Repeating the process until she reached her wrist.

She looked down on it --- eyes dull, like she was already dead long ago; tear-streaked face, like she washed her face with water; her eyes swelling. She remembers everything now.

She remembers how she feels happy. She remembers how natural her smile felt. She remembers how she slowly become alone. She remembers those nights she kept on crying. She remembers how she lost her memories and her reason why she erased it herself. She remebers ... The feeling of being left alone and the agonizing pain of feeling lonely. She remembers all of it.

The girl knows she can do it again, but what's the point? If she erased her own memories before and remembered now, it'll happen again. History repeats itself.

Namine stopped at her bedroom door, staring at it for a few minutes before opening it. She blinked as the whiteness of her room became visible to her. She entered her room.

First step. Drip. Second. Drip. Third. Drip. And so on, as she gone near to her bed, which was covered in white. Sitting down on it, she knew she was staining it with her blood, but she doesn't care. No one does. Even if she'll lay down here and close her eyes forever.

She then looked behind her -- a wall. Namine then moved toward it, writing random things on it.

'Why do people leave me behind?'

'It hurts ...'

'Did I do something wrong?'

'I'm tired.'

'No one cared to stay.'

'Why?'

Her hand trailed down the wall as she wrote something after 'Why?' then suddenly fell sideward onto the bed, her breath hitching. She's dying.

She let a single tear run down her face as she was starting a hard time to breathe. Her vision was getting blurry, and she knew she was almost there. There was no turning back now. With few more breathes, she let out a sob. And with her last, she slowly closed her eyes.

Then everything was quiet. No more sniffles, no more sobs, no more dripping, no more breathes. She was dead. There was nothing left anymore, except for a body that it's owner chose to bury her memories with death and a wall of blood where she wrote the things which was left unspoken.

'I'm sorry I existed.'