“Will you do it for me?”

Chuckling terrifyingly, his cat-like eyes looked straight in my heart and I wondered if I would have thought things through if someone else was beside me. But I realized from that moment on, I was gone.

I couldn’t turn away from this man, who would definitely turn my world to ruin.

droplets free falling

the sky once again crying

for the figures dying,

see you later, too

once the rain comes back

the cycle restarts.

There’s no denying it.

…I truly can’t understand.

I stand here with him, and something just doesn’t feel right.

How can he be unfazed?

How can he stand to face me?

I step back, my insides revolting, and he moves forward—EYES FILLED WITH CONCERN.

“No, stop!” my voice cracks as if wanting to cry but truly unable to.

He INSTANTLY obeys my shout and frowns worriedly.

It honestly repulses me.

I clench my hands and snap, “’Thank you’. Is that what you want?"

He flinches, his mouth shut closed.

“Ok, then. Thank you. Thank you for covering up my cheating!”

Everyone has a mark that tells what their respective soulmate thinks about them in their first meeting.

For him, his soulmate’s mark oddly writes the word “survivor”, but his young self only assumes that his soulmate must a strong and independent person. He smiles proudly and shows his markings with pride at that time.

What he fails to realize is the exact meaning of such a word until he finally meets her one day.

It is a usual work for him—nothing unusual for police officer like him. Then, the siren calls and his duty turns 180 degrees.

His fellow police officers brought a couple of teenagers, who have been caught trying to steal and burn down a building. The fact that teenagers are the criminals is problem enough but then, he sees the oldest person—probably in her twenties—among the group.

Her eyes are dull.

No light emits from them, only soulless as if she has nothing to live for. She stands motionlessly and accepts nonchalantly the handcuffs on her wrists. Her whole body that’s not covered by her clothes are filled with scars and wounds, painting an ugly picture.

His soulmate mark burns—glowing faintly, thinly, as if mere fireflies dying out—and he stares wide-eyed at the girl, who looks back without emotion despite her mark glowing as well.

“Alive,” is what it says, and his heart sinks.

—in numbness,

—in sorrow,

—in regret,

—in lost,

—for his mark about her clearly is a sign for help.