twenty two

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[ 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠! : 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 ]

✧ Minghao's pov

I was pulled away from my soothing dream and brought back to reality. My eyes fluttered, adjusting in a few seconds to the darkness that filled the living room of my apartment. Or well, Y/N's as well.

It seemed like I somehow fell asleep on the sofa, my back pressed on the surface while I was facing the white ceiling. Despite me trying countless times to fall asleep and picture something in my mind, something that would transform in a dream, I finally did, without me realising it.

"Wait.". I murmured as I questioned if I was still in a dream.

I hesitantly lifted my hand, hoping something would have changed in me, yet disappointment soon painted my face. My whole hands now turned transparent, up until my wrist where it slowly faded into skin-like just before my elbows. The rest was pretty much similar to a normal person, beside my legs seeming more invisible than usual.

"Am I..." I tried to push back the thought, not wanting to say it out loud. I stared blankly at my hands, which looked like they were made of thin glass, at loss of words. I didn't want to fully realise it yet, the truth hurt so much but it was too evident to hide anymore.

The silence of the whole apartment was fuel to my wild mind, like a beast trying to free itself from a cage it was scraping me from inside with its sharp claws, leaving deep wounds that would not stop burning.

"Am I... disappearing from this world?" I choked out the question, that sounded more like an affirmation to me. A part of myself understood this was only normal, I was already dead and I had finally reached the end of my life as a soul. The other part was blind and deaf. In front of the reality of the situation my eyes just closed themselves and my ears suddenly froze their usual functionality.

Why was it so painful to just accept it? Why was it so hard to let my life go when I had already left the real world? Why was it complicated to say a simple 'goodbye'?

I didn't want this to end and I wished to stay here as a ghost. It was impossible for me to come back to life, but I surely had the opportunity to continue on living like this. Then what was the reason I wasn't allowed to?

"It's still not my time, but...". My mother's sobbed words came echoing in my mind, the points where her tears fell on my hand were still emanating a comforting warmth. "M-my body says otherwise, mom". I whispered, probably hoping I wouldn't hear myself saying it.

It was too late now to not accept the fact that I would be gone, probably soon too at this rate.

And if that was true, continuing with finding more about my last moments and my death was totally meaningless. A waste of time.

I forced myself to walk up where the vase with the white lilies was. I stared at it for a while, my mind now silent and firmly glued to one conviction. I gently traced a finger over one of the petals, it moving just so slightly at my touch.

Flowers are so strange: they look beautifully lifeless yet they still possess that tiny spark that keeps them connected with the world and its whole. They silently stare at you, probably wondering where you're going or what are you thinking about, however as we confess our troubles to them, they don't give an answer back. Like selfish beings. Insensitive marvellous creatures.

Their beauty seemed to joke around with me, it being so pompous and elegant that it suffocated and tormented me. It all reminded me of how insignificant I was now that I was disappearing, how useless I had become, all my efforts now falling down one by one.

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