As seconds stretched into minutes and then hours, Julia finally rose from the waiting shed—her feet had unknowingly led her there after the chaos she caused at work.
"Ahhhh!" at last she finally followed her screwed-loose brain, acted without thinking, and knocked the hell out of her evil manager; now she just needs to deal with the consequences.
1. Her mother's rage.
2. And figuring out where the hell she's sleeping tonight.
With a frustrated stomp on the concrete, Julia let out another scream, tugging at her hair in exasperation.
Passersby gave her a wide berth—she looked so unhinged that even the beggar across the street scurried away, startled by her outburst.
Once she finally snapped back to her senses, she smoothed down her tangled hair, took a deep breath, and hopped onto the bus.
With nowhere else to go, her feet carried her back to the place where her shoes had worn thin—her most hated, yet somehow favorite, place.
The cemetery.
The sun is setting now, and the golden-orange rays are all over the place.
The tombstone stands quietly beneath the shade of an old tree, its gray surface worn smooth by wind, rain, and time. The name carved into the stone catches the light just enough to feel alive — her name — so familiar it almost feels like she might answer if you said it out loud.
"Elle Quin Montefalco..." she mumbled to herself.
The letters are simple, elegant, and without flourish. Below her name, the dates mark the beginning and the end, but it's the dash between them that carries the weight — all the laughter, the late-night talks, the fights, the hugs, and the life that happened in between.
She gently touched it. "forever 16, huh..." she whispered to the wind.
It's been six years since her little sister passed away due to a rare medical condition.
Her family suffered financially and emotionally to the point it changed them drastically.
Her mother works so much that they can't even see each other at home. She tried every single side hustle she could find, while Julia and Sasha, the second daughter, worked as part-timers in the wet market to support their mother financially.
Fortunately, the sisters are smart and were sponsored by the government scholarship, which cut them some slack for tuition fees.
For two straight years, they did nothing but work tirelessly—falling into a routine of earning money and caring for their little sister.
They tried to stay positive, clinging to hope. But every time they saw Elle lying in that hospital bed, frail and fading beneath a web of tubes, their hearts shattered all over again.
Each of them masked their pain with a bright smile, doing their best to reassure her that Everything's going to be okay. Life will go back to normal.
Behind that brave facade was Julia, who silently pleaded with the universe every single day. She begged the creator to take her instead, to restore Elle's health, to let her live fully and joyfully, to give her a long, beautiful life... even if it meant ending her own.
But that prayer was... never answered.
One evening, after a long and exhausting shift at the wet market, Julia's phone rang. It was her mother calling from the hospital. There was a crack in her voice as she whispered the words, "Elle... passed away."
The phone slipped from Julia's hands and hit the floor. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she scrambled to grab her wallet, threw on two mismatched shoes, and bolted into the night.
She jumped into a taxi, her vision blurred with panic and grief, whispering prayers the entire ride—desperate for this to be just a nightmare, something she could wake up from.
Her heart beats so fast and loud to the point she can't even hear her own wailing.
Nothing matters at that moment but to see it with her own eyes.
As soon as she arrived, she ran to her sister's hospital room. A couple of people surround her bed; she pushes them until she can finally see her.
Elle, in her pale grayish skin, lying down in the hospital bed, a lifeless cold corpse.
"N-no, no, no, wake up! please! do something! please!" she pleaded to everyone while trying to wrap Elle's cold body in her arms.
No one spoke a word. Only the sound of echoing sobs filled the room, making the silence feel impossibly heavy and unbearably sad.
Her young, cheerful sister is nothing but a corpse now.
She will never see her again.
She will never hear her complaints again.
She'll never hear her say, "Thank you! you're the best sister ever!"
She'll never steal her clothes and shoes again.
And she'll never feel her presence again.
Her memories with her were all she had now.
Regrets started to crawl at Julia.
She should've been a better sister. She should've been kinder, fought less, and loved more. She should've protected her when she had the chance.
But now... she never will.
That is the longest night Julia's ever had; she didn't even sleep a wink. Well, no one is from her family.
She feels numb, but her heart's crushing each time she sees her lifelessly.
Each day is painful up to this day. The time just made it less and much more tolerable.
Losing Elle feels like someone took a part of her story and tore it out — not neatly, not gently, but with jagged edges that leave you aching in places you didn't know existed.
It's the silence that follows a laugh you instinctively want to share, only to remember she's not there to hear it. It's the sudden urge to call her when something small happens — a new song, an inside joke, a memory — and the crushing stillness when you realize the number's just a memory now.
Her absence isn't loud. It's not a scream. It's a constant, quiet hollow that sits in your chest and echoes when the world gets still.
"Ughh." Julia wiped the crystal water that was forming in the corner of her eye. Remembering everything made her teary; she brushed away her train of thoughts before pulling out the can of beer from her backpack that she brought from the convenience store and opened it, pouring half of it on her sister's tombstone before shoveling everything into her throat.
She lay down in the grass, the cool earth grounding her as she stared up at the sky.
A gentle breeze brushed against her skin, and as the clouds drifted by beneath the dimming hues of sunset, something in Julia eased. Just a little. Just enough.
"Why do you look so gloomy, young lady?" A tall, sharp-jawed man with dark hair suddenly popped in front of her eyes.
'It was the man from earlier! '
Julia immediately stood up and instinctively tried to run away when the man fiercely grabbed her arm. "That's not how you greet someone, young lady," he spoke with a playful smile on his lips.
Julia is so overwhelmed that she can't even utter a word.
And in a single snap of his finger, the location changed. A place that was surrounded with trees and an old wooden house that strangely looked so familiar to Julia.
What the hell just happened?!
W-where am I?!
And who's this weirdo?!
Her thoughts are also obviously written on her face.