Prologue

Prologue

She always loved the blue sky, maybe it was because it reflects her personality. Bubbly, light, and colorful, a total opposite of you even though you're made from the same breath.

Looking up on the sky with squinting eyes, everything around you always reminds you of her image. Even in the smallest things. Even looking at yourself in the mirror, you see her. You see your sister.

Your twin and other half. Perfectly identical faces, everyone's always confuse of which is which but now, there's only one left behind. And that's you. Because the other half of you died months ago, nearing a year.

And yet you still can't get used to it. Why haven't you felt it? Why didn't you feel that she was in danger when that's one of the privileges of a twin? Feeling one another's emotions. Had she not felt it coming too? Had she not felt like she was about to die that day?

She could've told you. She could've told you that something wasn't right but she only smiled at you that day with that same soft and kind smile, comforting you in every way she can. Then in one blink, she was gone.

Just like that. And now, you're only left looking at the sky thinking of your ever kind and good twin, together with her tombstone and these purple lilies in your hands. Asking why she left you here all alone when you were born on the same day and at the same time with only seconds apart? Why leave you when she's a part of you, when she's your other half?

Why leave you mourning and weak? Your fingers tightened at the stem of the purple lilies you brought here, a swallow could be heard from you. Everytime you visit her, it all gets to you.

It creeps in and seeping through you, always ending up going home with wet cheeks and bloodshot eyes. No matter what you do, she won't be here anymore. She will never come back.

Because your sister is dead. Just like the bouquet of flowers beside her grave. The white roses and baby's breath were left to die, frail and cold in the days and nights to accompany your sister.

You took it, making a crispy sound from its dryness and replacing it with the purple lilies you brought. Purple lilies were her favorite, you smiled sadly as you look at the dead flowers in your hand. You were the one that always loved white roses, even with your favorites someone still confuse you with hers.

But everyone knows that she loved purple lilies, it was a common knowledge between your family and her friends so why would they send her white roses when it was you who liked them? Who would send her these white roses when everybody knows that your sister is dead and that you killed her?

You have no friends to tell them your favorite flowers and your parents and your twin were the only one who knew it so why would anyone send your twin your favorite flowers? Is someone else visiting your sister? Someone you don't know?

Your eyes wandered to the halls of the charnel house, a land of silence and sorrow. There's too many people that mourned here and yet nobody can hear their cries. There's too many people that left their memories with the person they buried here and yet it seems like a deserted place.

The silence of this place envelopes you, there's nobody around except you and an old man sitting on the tile meters away from you, probably to visit his wife. You look at her place in the charnel house, its just as large as a box with her picture, name and an urn that hold her cremated body. You opened the glass of your sister's locker and put the flowers next to her picture.

"Yah, Kara, it's my first day tomorrow. I transferred to a different school because our school mates are saying that I killed you. They're right, aren't they? I killed you, that's why Mom and Dad are angry at me." Your voice cracked and a tear flows down your cheek.

Everytime you try to tell her what is happening to your life, you just end up like this. You put your hand on your lips trying to contain the sobs from escaping, your shoulder shakes and your heart clenches.

"I wish you were here, Kara." You called for her name.

You longed for her soft pats on your shoulder everytime you cry. You longed for her soft caress at night everytime you can't sleep. You longed for her soft laughters everytime she sees you lonely at school. You longed for her.

The moment she slipped away from you was the moment where darkness consumed you. She was your light and now, you're all left to wander in the dark.

You wanted to talk to her, to ask her about things you are unsure of because she always knows what to do. She always knows what is right, that's why people loved her and adored her more than you.

"I wish you were the one who didn't die. I wish I was the one who died so I don't have to face everything, because everytime I look at them, all I could do is blame myself. I'm sorry, I'm sorry Kara." You said as you put your hand on her picture frame displaying her sweet smile.

You let yourself break down in front of her urn. You let those tears fall again. You let her see how you really feel. But after that, you wiped your tears away and smiled.

"I'll continue to live, like how I promised you. I'll continue to live for your happiness." Because she doesn't want you think like this, she doesn't want you to blame yourself and you'd always assure her that you aren't even though deep down inside you, you're guilt and conscience is already eating you up.

Slowly and making you rotten. And you can't stop it, because everyone are pointing fingers at you. And you have to pay for your sins, you have to pay for your sister's life and that is accepting all the blames and hatred they are throwing at you.

And you don't know how long this journey will be, but you're ready to sacrifice. In hopes that they will accept you again, in hopes that they will love you again. In hopes that you'll forgive yourself in the end.

"I'll visit you again tomorrow before I go off to school. Rest well, Kara." You said before you close her locker and leave the charnel house.

The rays of sun stings your eyes that are still wet from crying, you walk to the nearest trash bin and put the dead and dried flowers in the bin. Your eyes went to the church next to the charnel house.

An old lady held a wooden broom as she sweep the sidewalk of the church, keeping it immaculate as ever. You walk towards her.

"Excuse me, is Father Ramil here?" You asked her, glancing at the open door of the church.

She stopped sweeping and looked at you. The old woman had a soft smile on her face, the wrinkles in her face shouts her age along with the white strands of her hair.

"He went to a town for a mass, why? Do you need something from him? Or are you going to give him a gift? You can leave it to the church helper." She said in a slow manner.

You shake your head, "Ah no, I just want to ask him something. Maybe I'll just ask him next time when I see him here. Thank you for your time." You smiled at the woman that nodded her head on you then went back to sweeping quietly.

You went home quietly, you took a deep sigh before twisting the doorknob of your house. Your home felt like a charnel house, quiet and sorrowful. It's been like this since she died.

You saw your mother on the kitchen sink washing the dishes quietly, "I'm home." You said quietly but she ignored you like you're just a ghost in this house.

You walk up the stairs quietly when you realized your mother won't talk to you today, like she did in some other days when she doesn't feel like yelling at you. You turn to the left when you reach the top of the stairs ready to head to your room but you stopped and looked back, your eyes fixing to door on the right.

You slowly walk towards it and just stood in front of it. Your hand goes to the knob, you tried to twist it but it doesn't budge. You look up the door, it's been this way since she passed away.

After your parents cried and mourned in her room when they found out that your sister was dead, they locked it down. They didn't want anybody to touch her things and change the way it was.

You walk to the table where all the keys in this house are kept, you pulled the drawer under it and searched for the key for Kara's room. But you stop when you heard the front door of your house opened.

"Is she here? Is she home?" You heard your father's drunk voice.

It's just four in the afternoon and yet he reeks of alcohol. You tried to see your father from the railings of the stairs. His face was red and his walk swirls. You see your mother walk towards him and supports him by putting his arm around her shoulders.

"She came home just minutes ago." Your mother answered him with a weak voice.

"Didn't I tell you to kick her out of our house! That kid brings bad luck. She will kill all of us in this house!" Your father starts to shout.

Your hand let go of the railing and you took a step back, you weren't ready to hear it even when that's the only thing you've been hearing since that one tragic accident. You walk back to your room and locked the door.

You saw the posters of the band you loved so much on the wall of your bedroom. Your brows furrowed and your breath starts to pick up as the anger wells up in you. You march towards it and tears it forcefully from the wall, ripping it in to pieces as tears fell from your eyes.

The posters only reminded you of how stupid you were that day. The posters only reminded you of your sins. The posters only reminded you of your smiling sister before you killed her.

___________________________________________________________________

Your story begins here, are you ready to read it?

(Charnel House): a locker type cemetery that is very popular in korea instead of a traditional graveyard.