Running into the crowded streets of weekends while wearing an all-white dress as if I am escaping, I was grabbed firmly from someone behind my back. Noises seemed to be put on mute as soon as I laid my eyes on his face.

  “(Y/n),” he asked me with throaty voice.

  Looking at him has recalled past memories that flashback into my head as if everything just happened yesterday.

  Through a glass window was a boy with rounded eyes, long eyelashes, thick brows, porcelain skin and pale lips. I could read from his stare that he had built a wall in his brain with him so lonely on the other side. If only he glazed a glassy layer of tears, I’ll be soon crying in empathy.

    Whenever I walked home from school, I saw this boy sitting on the same spot and time by the window. His name was unknown, but he has beauty that had left permanent image on me, I think I wouldn’t forget even 1000 years had passed.

  ‘Why is he always inside his room? Why isn’t he study like normal kids does?’ I was absorbed by these young thoughts of mine back then.

On the month of May and year of 2005 was an encounter I didn’t expect. It was the day when our neighborhood was louder than usual, costumes lit up a riot of colour to rival any painting. Music filled the air, festive beats lifted the spirits and people wanted to jump, move and sing – It was the time to celebrate the festival. 
 
  When purple sky shrouded the dawn, I was running in joy so I could see the fireworks display on time. I saw the pretty boy sitting on his bed through the glass window and the barricade after it. Everyone was excited to watch the fireworks display and I was sure he felt the same. And so for the very first time, I called him without saying his name.

  “H-Hey.”

  He looked at me with his eyes sadder than usual. I grabbed the barricade that smell like rust then spoke at him.

  “The purple light crawled the sky. Everyone wears colorful costume and the air is deliciously tasty with foods we can share to our friends. Are you planning to stay all night inside your room?” I carefully asked.

  The boy who was always looks stern has finally smiled at me. I was startled; if it was in animation, I would have had a loud thud next to me.

  “I can’t go out. The door is locked,” he gave me a feeble response. That’s when I set my eyes towards the main door of their house.

  “You’re right. It’s locked from the outside,” I murmured.

  “Can you open it for me?”

  “Huh?”

  “I would love to watch the fireworks display. So can you open the door for me?”

  Without hesitation, I fulfilled his request. The door lock is really simple. It just a stainless trixes that can be pull with a single stroke of hand. However, to my small body, it was once the hardest mission I received before. I saw him peeking at me from the window while I tried so hard reaching the trixes. It was a mission failed of course.

  “I couldn’t reach it,” I reported.

  “You can use a stick,” he suggested while pointing a stick from the side.

  With it, I have finally opened the door, buckled with sweats.

  “The door is open,” I said in cheerful voice.

  If only I could bring that time back, I wish I didn’t open that door.

  I wish we never spent that night together, hand in hand. I wish we never watched the fireworks display. I wish our paths never crossed.

  “Wake up! Wake up!” loud scream resonated as the frail kid had lost his consciousness after collapsing and hitting his head on a rock. “Wake up! Please!” The sounds were fading until… Black.

  My memory after that incident 15 years ago is blank like a sheet of white paper. The recollection between the 10 year-old me and the 14 year old me four years ago gone missing. All I remember is when I was 14 and my family live together at the city. I’ve asked them about that boy in our old neighborhood but didn’t receive an answer.

  Until one night, I accidentally overheard my parent’s conversation about a little kid who was very sick. That kid has brain tumor and his disease got worse after collapsing and hitting that kid’s head on a rock. The kid then suffered from hemorrhagic tumor and only has few years left. He continued receiving treatment to prolong his life but sometimes he tends to forget things from time to time.

  I was sure that my parents hid this from me because it was at fault. Maybe, the reason why I couldn’t remember my pasts well besides that incident was due to my traumatic disorder.

  But now, that kid appeared in my life again.

  “(Y/n),” he uttered while looking at me.

  Rounded eyes, long eyelashes, pale skin and red lips. He grew up so handsomely I could feel my heart throbbing in pain.

  ‘Because of me, he’s sick. Because of me… he might die sooner or later. It was all my fault.’

  “D-Do you know me?” I asked back.

  “(Y/n),” he repeated saying my name for the third time.

(Y/n) – a name he might loathed for a long time.

Yet, I asked,  “W-Who are you?”

  “It’s me, Choi Seungcheol.”

  Tears just fell down from my eyes. A wound from the past re-opened, and no matter how I tried to stop myself from getting hurt, I never succeed. The pain in me while looking at him is unmeasurable, as if a sharp knife keeps stabbing at me, again, again, again, again and again.

  Even though I was thankful that he is still alive until now, I couldn’t forgive myself. Thus, I knelt down in front of him and cried.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I sobbed while looking down. My tears dropped on the ground, making it dark grays.

  Seungcheol knelt down and hugged me. He was trembling so hard as he whispered, “I’ve been looking for you. Why are you here outside the busy streets?”

  ‘Of course he would. He would search for the person responsible for this.’

  And so, “I’m sorry,” is all I could say.

“Why are you apologizing?” he sobbed. “It should be me. I’m sorry for opening the door. I’m sorry for taking you to the fireworks display. I’m sorry (y/n). This is my fault.”

  One thing stopped me.

  ‘Why is he apologizing for those things I did from the pasts?’

  I gently pushed him away, looking at his reddened eyes glistening in tears.

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated in whisper.

  Flashbacks on my head repeated again: From the very first day.

  There was a young girl who always waited by her room’s window. Every 4pm, a boy named Seungcheol passed by her window and so she was anticipating of seeing him everytime.

Why? Because he was her first love.

  One day, on year of 2005 and the month of May, Seungcheol peeked through her window and talked to her for the first time. “H-Hey. The purple light crawled the sky. Everyone wears colorful costume and the air is deliciously tasty with foods we can share to our friends. Are you planning to stay all night inside your room?” he said.

  The young girl blushed. She smiled at him and then replied, “I can’t go out. The door is locked.”

  Because of her frail frame, she was always staying indoor. Her parents locked their house in case that little girl wanted to escape when she should not.

  However, that very day, Seungcheol opened the door and they spent celebrating the festival together. They held hands, smiled at each other, and watched fireworks displays.

For her, that was the happiest day of her life.

  But the death’s door knocked on that night.

  Tired of moving here and there, she collapsed and hit her head on a rock.

  Black.

  Everything went black.

  “What are you doing here. Come on let’s go back to the hospital. Why did you run away?” Seungcheol said while crying in front of me.

Now I realized that all this time, I mistook my memories as his. The girl behind the window was me. The boy who opened a new world for her, was him.

  That means death for me is near.

  The person who keeps on blaming himself was no other than my first love – Seungcheol. However, I won’t blame him.

Maybe, all of this happened so I could understand him; so I’ll be thankful. And so I can accept my ending without regrets.

  This brain of mine was a traitor but yet a hope maker.

  “Thank you, for opening the door for me. Thank you for letting me to experience the happiest day of my life,” I whispered then my breaths… stopped.

The end.