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Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart.
…
They said I was perfect—a Hero of sorts—one who was compassionate. Wise. Kind-hearted.
I don’t think they meant this version of ‘Hero’.
Pitiful. Weak. Tragic- no longer Hero, but Henry.
I can’t ignore this. No matter how many things I juggle my mind with, keeping myself busy, it always comes back to me just when I'm able to forget. It tugs at me, gently whispering, luring me with sweet, honeyed words.
It would be so much easier if you could sleep forever.
I try to block it out.
You should have died instead of her.
Alone with the misty light of the sunset, surrounded by pieces of smooth rock that are conveyed to be significant, and so they are, for my girlfriend is underneath the one in front of me-
I bite my lip, and force him, the weak soul inside me, to speak.
“H-Hey, Mari.”
Memories just come rushing to me like photographs being fluttered before my eyes.
“H-Hey, Mari!”
Her face is mere centimetres away from mine, before her lips flutter onto my cheeks, a light, breathy kiss being politely planted.
“Oh?” She smirks, then playfully pouts, a pout that I know too well for it to be fake. “Why not…?”
And yet I play along anyway.
“We’re…baking, right now!” I stutter out, hopelessly in love. “And I’ve got to mix these and put them in baking cups before-”
Before I can even finish my sentence, I’ve been silenced once more by her lips touching mine, a sweet flavour caressing my taste buds. As she leans back, leaving my mouth with a tingling sensation, she smirks harder than before, most likely from the deep heat of my face, probably pink, close to red.
My darling innocently tilts her head, a finger to her chin. “But look!” She points to my apron, my pink, overly frilly apron wrapped around me. “It says ‘Kiss the chef’, doesn't it?”
Even though I know the answer, I still look down anyway. Yeah, she’s one hundred per cent correct about that.
Those words are located where the two large pockets are, in fancy, darker pink cursive. It's most definitely laughable, but I still wear it every time I cook.
For her. For my Mari.
God, she’s so stunningly beautiful, like an angel that descended down from heaven, so amazingly gorgeous-
“He-ro! The cupcakes!”
I’ve been brought out of my thoughts by the angel herself, who is talking about the…cupcakes?
I look down.
“Aah! Mari!” I cry out, half stuttering, half panicking as I frantically begin to stir the batter as fast as I possibly can. “What do I do?! The batter's beginning to harden!”
“Ah, sorry, sorry!” She giggles as she grabs the cupcake cups and swiftly puts them into the tray. “Oh god, they’re sticking to each other!”
I remember how that kiss tasted. I remember how every kiss tasted. I felt what it truly meant to be alive—my sight more vivid with colours, the air so much more fresher, and my heart, my heart pounding, ever so clear.
…
I bring my legs to stand up and force my eyes to stare at what’s left of her.
It's a gravestone. Nothing extravagant. Her name, age, and…that quote.
‘To our dearest Mari; The sun shined brighter when you were here.’
I think the gravestone epitaph might be incorrect. 'Everyone' would be the better thing to write.
Everyone, everything was brighter when my girlfriend was still alive.
My eye twitches. The left, not right. “Today’s…the first of January…today.” I take a deep breath, my hands clenching, nails digging into my skin. “My…birthday. My twentieth one.”
I’m not stuttering like I thought I would be. My words are a bit slow, but…it’s alright. She’s patient. She would be patient…for anyone.
“I think…the last time I came here…was October.” Something pricking my sight. I’m blinking back tears. No, stay strong. You can’t start now. “With everyone else. The whole group.”
Another memory, another memory that I can't stop.
“Trick or treat! Trick or treat! It's time to trick or treat!” Kel chants like a mantra, bouncing up and down in his pumpkin, which is most likely twice his size.
“Ugh, be quiet, Kel!” Aubrey hits him with her broomstick. “You’re so noisy.”
“Nuh-uh!” He fights back, sticking out his tongue. “You’re the noisy one!”
“Excuse me?!” She huffs out. “Did you, Kel, just say I’m noisy? You?!”
“Yeah!” He faces Sunny and Basil, one a glorified toilet-papered mummy, the other, a paper mache angel. “Right, guys?”
Both of them instinctively hold their hands up, signalling they want no opinion in this petty fight. I can’t blame them. Kel sulks in response. Aubrey seems to take it from a different perspective though.
“See-!” She sneers. “They think you’re loud!”
“No-pe!” And pool floatie-sized Kel begins to run forward, attempting to manoeuvre himself to hit Aubrey.
“Ye-ah!” She dodges.
“No!” He charges again.
“Yes!” She barely avoids it.
I sigh. I step into the middle of their ‘battlefield’, Mari’s adorable paw still holding my hand. “Guys, stop fighting.”
Unanimously, now circling around the two of us, they both shout “She/He started it first!”
Mari stifles a laugh from that. I’ve dealt with too many of these now to know the drill.
Hmm…which one looks easier to pick up.
Probably Aubrey.
In one swift motion, I hoist up the little witch by the waist, and Mari seems to know what to do, as with her cat paws, she blocks the pumpkin boy from running up to us.
“Not today,” I call out to both of them, starting to lecture the two. I don’t think either are listening though as I drone on about how it's a special day.
“Oh, Mister Hero,” Mari singsongs. “Are you finished?”
Ah, I forgot. Unlike Mari, who just playfully put on the bare requirements of a cat, I was forced to wear a whole superhero outfit. I feel a bit silly, to be honest. Maybe I’m just getting old. Sunny’s already calling me Grandpa. And I think that’s influencing Basil, too. “Heh, maybe.” I chuckle, letting down Aubrey, who runs back to Sunny, grabbing his arm, probably complaining. Kel scampers ahead with Basil, who leads our group to the next house. “At least another tussle died down quickly, hey?”
“Yep!” She flashes me a toothy grin. “Aren’t you such a charming hero~!”
“Mari…” I grumble, hearing Kel groan in disgust. “Not now…”
My nose is sniffling now.
Yet I continue.
“Everyone’s doing better with each other since the…truth came out…I guess. We talked everything out.” I let out a dry, broken laugh. “I…don’t even know what I’m doing here, Mari. I…should be back at home. With K-Kel. With Sunny, your brother, who travelled four hours by bus just to celebrate this day. With Sally, m-my parents, the friends who care for me, the people who…love me.” There's tears sliding down my cheeks. “A-And yet…I’m here instead.”
I’m crying. I’m smiling. Am I happy? Sad? I can’t tell. I couldn’t tell what was what, which was which after she died.
“I know I should be celebrating with them, b-but…it kind of felt right to be with you for a while, y’know? So I…well…took one of the cupcakes. Thought I’d celebrate with you.”
I take out the singular cupcake from the plastic container next to me, putting the container in front of Mari, the cupcake on top. Even though Kel and Aubrey shooed me out of the kitchen to make them today, I still managed to secretly frost one.
It's purple frosted on one side, and blue on the other. The purple got somewhat smudged on the box.
I wedge a singular candle in the middle. Matchstick against matchbox. With its rough sound, a warm hue of orange lights up, and gets connected to the wax of the candle.
“I…probably shouldn’t be doing this…but…” I lit another match. I’ve fished out a sparkler in my other hand. “Tonight, in Faraway Park, they’ll be doing sparklers, like every other year. You can’t see them from here.”
“You always loved sparklers, fireworks, all of that, didn’t you? I remember being a worrywart, while you would laugh around in joy and awe.”
I bring the match to the middle of the sparkler, lighting it upwards.
…Another.
“Careful, Mari!” The lighter is awfully close to her finger, too close for my comfort. “Light it from the top!”
She laughs, holding Sunny’s hand, everyone else holding each other as we stand in a circle, sand getting stuck onto our feet, ocean waves crashing behind us, and the gentle touch of the moonlight above. “No, silly! If you light it from the middle, it won't sparkle down to your fingers at the end!”
Wait no, that’s a smart idea, I rethink. My intelligent, cunning girlfriend, always thinking ahead. My amazing girlfriend, so beautifully wearing my jumper, so pretty-
Before I can tell her that, everyone begins to ooh and aah as the sparkler lets out crackling noises, sparks of bright yellow flying outwards. Mari cries out in enjoyment.
It's…stunning. Bright…like her. The sand itches my legs, my mouth feels parched from the sea, but…
Its perfect.
I wish this moment could last forever.
The sparklers fade out as I stand there in silence, staring, staring down at the object that used to be such an enjoyable thing to be. The candle drips wax onto the cupcake, only dribbling down the purple side, rendering it inedible.
There’s a selfishness inside of me that wants to say more. I stop it, but it pours out of my mouth, words tumbling over each other before-
“Mari, h-how…how am I supposed to live without you, when I started to live because of you?”
I let the matchbox and no-longer-sparkling sparkler fall to the ground as gravity takes me by the hand and pushes me.
Squatting down with my hands over my head, tears clouding my vision and snot miserably dribbling down my face, hiccuping loudly, unable to face her once more. Like always. It's like I can never finish a singular conversation with her without sobbing.
I…feel like a toddler.
Filled to the brim with a downpour of overpowering emotions. My body language and my expression clearly show everything that needs to be shown…but it's like my throat is clogged. There is not a singular word coming out of it. I want to scream, to let out guttural noises so that the entire damn Faraway Town can hear my pain...yet…
I can’t say anything. All I can do is pathetically snivel as tears soak into the dark dirt underneath me. It's miserable.
The sunset is so…quiet.
I miss her so much.
“Oh, my d-darling, my Mari, my clematis…m-mi…mi amor…” I can’t stop now. All these nicknames I gave her came flowing out of me like a broken dam. “My love… Happy New Year. It's been five years without you.”
"I wish you were still here with us."
"With me."