Reminiscence.

#3.

How does it feel? I mean, how's it like since she has been gone?

It's like walking into a house with no windows. You're trapped there in the dark until you suffocate yourself with the stale air. There's no door, nothing that can let you out. You're just there, staring at the walls, hoping they start a conversation. There is no way out. Nada.

No, there must be something. Some way. You just need to find it.

No, there is no way. Even if there was, she was the only person who could find it out. Because that is who she is. She wouldn't wait for walls to start a conversation, she'd start one. A funny one, I bet. If she was here with me, she'd kick the walls down, take my hand and lead me out in the sunshine.

That's something you should do then. You know, kick the walls down.

No, it is weird because I like being in here. Because if I go outside, I'll suddenly have to live in a world without her. We won't be sharing the same sky! Inside this house, I'm left to think about her, it's like she's haunting me here.

But she wouldn't want that. She would want you to brush this grief off your sleeves and look at the world in the eye and smile.
Because she knows you are tough.

That sounds like her. She always told me that there is no point grieving over someone for long because your life is short too, you cannot spend it away thinking about a ghost. Someone who is gone.
                      But what do I do when my whole life revolved around that person? It's like learning how to live all over again. Like learning how to form a sentence for the first time when you've already written a novel.

How was she like?

Do you know that girl in the books? That girl laughs at herself when she trips down the stairs and then asks the ground if it's alright. That girl who dances with the trees on a rainy Tuesday. That girl whom people want to around, need to be around almost as if she shines. That girl who is a cool gust of wind on a hot afternoon. That girl who listens to music with her headphones on and gets lost in it, becoming the rhythm she was dancing to a few seconds ago. She was that girl who asked God if he was doing fine.

I honestly don't know what to say.

Sometimes, I shout at the sky to give her back to me. I roar and scream at it until it starts crying because there is nothing it can do. Because even the sky misses her. It's hard, she was everywhere, she was in all of my childhood pictures, she was a part of all of my thoughts, she knew all of my secrets. She was the other half of me, the better half. Even now, I feel like she might come home someday, tired of this secret trip she's gone on because there is no place like home. And weirdly, until she's not home, even I can never be home. Because she was my home, the roof, the walls, the windows, everything.

What do you think she's doing now?

Oh, she has crept out of this life, thrown all of us in the memory box, and sealed it tight. She might have gone on to the beach and learned how to surf. She might have dyed her hair green and developed a British accent, I'm sure. She is a part of the sky now. Just a ghost continuing to live, while others forgot how to.

Haha, how do you know this?

Because she was my sister. That's why.

°°°°°

Even now, whenever I'm out on the porch on a hot afternoon, when I feel the faintest touch of wind cooling my sweat, I think of her.