"History is a cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man."

•°•°•°•°•

To the one from the star,

I never mentioned John to you. People, other than my parents, always looked at me with strange eyes -- that I later deciphered was pity -- everytime John was mentioned in a conversation. I was, after all, the witness to this tragedy. I saw my brother die before my eyes.

But I hated that pity. I hated the feeling because I knew I didn't deserve anyone's pity. John wouldn't have been lying in his coffin if it hadn't been for me.

I never drove a car again.

I didn't want to feel the weight of so many lost lives upon my shoulders ever again!

But then you seemed to have plans to change that too.

Winter break was round the corner, and I was almost caught up with all my homeworks. I didn't have any friends or family who could've kept me engaged anyway. Books and studies were what kept me occupied when you weren't there.

But that evening -- it was the 26th of November, John's birthday -- you decided it was a good idea to scare me again.

But I couldn't really blame you. You probably thought I needed some excitement in my life after watching me brood throughout the day. It was John's death anniversary too after all.

Parents weren't home -- as usual -- and only the table lamp flickered in my room. Rest of house was awash with a darkness so creepy it could've been mistaken for a haunted one.

I was flipping through few of our earliest family pictures. In most of those, John was a small baby sucking his thumb and looking at the camera like he'd just seen a ghost. It was hilarious, but sad at the same time. In the next few, he was a little grown up kid crawling on the floor with huge car toys that failed to fit into the hold of his small palms.

There were plenty. And it was a pain to flip through the album, page by page. But I welcomed that pain. It was a reminder that I once had brother who I still loved with all my heart. I didn't want the memories of him to fade away.

He would never be just a memory of a person I cherished though. Because the light of every memory douses with time.

He would be my brother. A brother I would forever love no matter the otherworldly distance between us.

But then, now that I recall, I don't remember the night passing by as peacefully as I'd hoped it would. There was a loud creak coming from the stairwell, and I almost thought dad was home and he was climbing up to his room.

But the sound got louder. It were as if someone was climbing down. But I was well aware that parents weren't home. Who could've been in their room?

A ghost?

A thief?

Funny I'd thought of every ugly possibility, but never expected you. I mean, how many times have you pulled stunts like that on me anyway? I should've seen that coming.

But of course I didn't.

I grabbed one of my tennis racquets and slowly made my way towards the bedroom door. I could hear the sound getting closer. The floorboards creaked under heavy footsteps.

What if it was dad?

A thief probably would've been easier to handle. But I'd hoped it was just mom.

Wishful thinking.

I grabbed the hilt of my bat tighter and locked the door quickly from inside; just in case the intruder tried to attack me. People always said I was paranoid. And they probably were right.

There was a crash followed by loud bang against the wooden frame.

"Open the door!" It was an unknown voice. I didn't know whoever this creep was.

I decided to just maintain silence and let him do all the shouting.

"Open the door! How dare you cage me in your lamp? I have come to haunt you."

I was almost going to call the cops but your exclamations had me frozen for a moment.

Geenie.

Lamps.

I mean, who else could it have been?

I quickly unlatched the door, and there you stood. In all your...genie glory.

I don't even know how did you ever manage to find those exact same type of pants genie wore in Aladdin. And the turban. And the bluish tinge to your skin.

Oh, and the lamp too.

"Did I scare you? I know I did." You'd winked. That was your thing. You'd do something stupid or equally corny, and wink at me like it was funny.

How breathtaking.

"No, you didn't."

"Oh come on now. You were standing there with your flat saucepan to kill me!"

"What's a flat saucepan now?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

"That's a tennis racquet, you idiot!" I still don't know how someone could possibly confuse a tennis racquet with a saucepan.

"Oh well, you use that for cooking anyway. So all the same."

I'd probably never groaned so loud before. "Fine, fine. You scared me shitless. Happy now?"

And you'd grinned. Not just any grin, a mischievous one. "No, not yet. Come with me!"

You'd dragged me out of the room before I could protest. "We're going somewhere?"

"Yes." As if it wasn't clear I was asking for the location too.

•°•°•°•°•

A/N

So hi again! Sorry for the late update haha.

For this one, I wanted to go with something a little more light hearted because all the previous chapters have had a good amount of angst haha. Let me know your thoughts. I know the conversation was silly. But it's the silliest things that makes you laugh, isn't it?

Thank you so much for reading! ❤

~Jenna