Lypophrenia《Yizhan version》

Chapter 1

The only thing I need to remember is you.

You are the one that I can't forget; whatever happens, I must remember you.

You are the only one with the answers.

Wherever you are, wait for me...

But who are you...?

***

The room was cold and filled with a deep slumber of silence.

A young man, listening to the soft rain ticking against the window as if it was an old friend coming by, asking him how he was doing.

The rain was the tears of heaven. Sometimes even heaven needed to cry; after all, tears are the words of our heart that we can't put out into words.

His long musician fingers slowly crawled over the silky soft fabric of the old notebook. And for one time, his expression was as blank as his mind used to be like he was between heaven and earth somewhere in connection.

A soft blow of the cold winter air touched his face and played with his hair the moment he closed his eyes.

He remembered someone saving him the moment he wanted to die the most. Although the face was blurred somehow, he managed to recall the warm blossoming feeling as if it was summer inside his chest whenever his hand touched the other persons.

The man- or thr young boy he remembered himself being- could remember his smile that was like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. And above all, he could remember the way the other had looked at him. Not like he was broken, instead looked at him as if he was sudoku from which he was missing one particular number.

The rain outside heavied.

The young man opened his eyes with a soft flutter as if he just woke up from a deep sleep; his eyes went downwards, looking at the old notebook that had curled letters. It formed one particular word, "Yizhan".

An ice-cold shiver ran down his spine when his fingers unconsciously trailed off the golden letters with a heavy heart.

The name Yizhan sounded so familiar as if it woke up something that was long buried away somewhere inside his heart.

The feeling the name Yizhan gave him was as if an old door to a memory opened, but he couldn't see the memory. He was only able to feel the soft breezes of spring and thousands of butterflies flying around inside his stomach, coiling up without a reason why.

The golden colour of the letters had slightly faded through the years, but it was still more than visible enough to read, and it shone as stars did.

His slender fingers flipped open the first page that was entirely blank.

Then he flipped towards the second page that was as empty as the one before.

Once again, the young man turned a third page which was just like the ones before, and that was the moment he decided to flip faster through the whole book. Only to discover it was all completely white.

And solely one thought crossed his empty mind.

Why would he have kept this notebook with Yizhan written on it, in a box that got called "important!" If nothing was written inside it?

The young man slowly shook his head, heaving out a deep sigh starting to massage his temples, trying to think of any reason. Why in the world would he have done this, and what could be the meaning of this notebook?

The rain outside heavied with the second passing and, after a long silence, followed with a clear flash of lightning, visible through the dark night.

His long fingers softly tickled on the notebook with the rhythm of the rain. His eyes zoomed out to another place, probably somewhere in the galaxy, and once again, a deep sigh escaped his mouth when a thought crossed his mind.

But the very likewise moment he shook the thought away, he wouldn't have done that . . . Would he?

Slowly but surely, he opened a drawer and took a small thing out that looked like a flashlight, but unbeknownst it wasn't just a flashlight.

The young man kept the small flashlight between his fingers while twisting it. And once again, he looked deep in thoughts as if he was drowning in them.

When he finally woke up from his train of thoughts, he turned the notebook back to the blank first page.

Using the small flashlight to lighten the page, not because the room was too dark, but because there was a chance, a small one, but it could explain why this notebook was blank.

And just like he had assumed, out of the blank page that it once was, words came visible under the moon coloured light of the flashlight he held.

Unconsciously a tiny wicked smirk appeared on his face while he ruffled through his messy dark hair.

At that moment, the rain outside stopped pouring, and he started reading his long-forgotten story . . .

Word count: 829 words