Clerence Cartwright

I couldn't explain how grateful I am to hear such news, even though it is not perfect.

Sasha will wake up. My mind sings without having the urge to stop yet it continues to do so against my will over and over again. I have to say she has been sleeping for almost a month and the fact is torturous for me to handle my daily life.

I will continue to pray for her, and I won't forget to do it tonight.

_____

While waiting for the clock to strike 10, I sit in my own room and stroll through the Internet absentmindedly. But soon, everything seems boring to me, so I withdraw from the platforms and subconsciously select my notepad.

The wishes which I have noted down that day come into view. But something is missing.

Why are there only 5 wishes left? Where are the rest?

As I begin to rummage through my mind for more clues or even answers, Hans' claim about his dream soon rings in my head.

He said something about Sasha and me, kissing. And also, Sasha and me, teaching Kayla a lesson. The last wish comes into view and that turns my face red.

Tell Clerence that I love him.

Forget it. It might be some other girl anyway. I glance up to the clock and it is time for me to pray. So I exit the notepad and turn the phone into sleep mode before kneeling by my own bed.

As soon as I have finished my prayers, I quit from this position as my knee hurts from walking all day, and lie down on the hard mattress, bothering nothing about shutting out the light.

Watching as the white light pierces my eyes, I let the feeling of drowsiness consumes my own will and place my forearm on my eyes. My ears take in nothing particular once my mind cools down.

Sweet dreams, or rather, dream nothing, Clerence...

***

Xxxxx Xxxxxxx

It is so painful, the moment when they try to take my memory away is so torturously painful. And ironically, the pain is because of someone trying to delay or prevent the time of my last breath.

At least this is what I have remembered from the keepers, as what Isabelle has said. Right now, my blurry vision and hearing is blocking me from reality until I can feel someone shaking my crouched body on the cold floor.

Not long after, I can hear hums instead of words. Hums that are sung when someone prefers not to open their mouths when making a sound. Isabelle enters my point of view at last, but her mouth is shaping only a word. Her eyes show panic and worry.

"What happened?" I ask with my hoarse voice. And that is how I remember myself screaming in extreme pain and agony. "My voice, oh gosh, I sound like a grandma," I comment in a joking way but Isabelle doesn't laugh.

Her eyes are red with her tears flowing non-stop out of her eye sockets. What is she crying about?

Her lips shape the same word when she calls again. But it turns out to be a hum for me. "They took your memory, Xxxxx." What is the last word again? Why can't I hear the last word?

"They took what?" I ask.

"Your memory..." sobs Isabelle as she wipes her tears with the back of her hand.

But everything sounds fine for me - I can remember Isabelle, I can remember why I can feel pain during the process, I can even remember those keepers' faces. So what is wrong with my memory now?

"Xxxxx." Her lips mouth a word which I couldn't hear again. "You can't remember your own name now."

"What's my name?" There I mutter to myself, realisation hits me like a hard brick. "Why can't I remember?" My fingers enclose and turn into fists, grabbing my hair on both sides when pure frustration begins to haunt me. "What will happen if I can't remember my name?"

"That means you are more than 50% not be able to wake up..." This answer pierces my heart nice and clean like an arrow until I can feel the fragile bubble of hope bursts in my mind. "The only thing you can do now is to fulfill all of your wishes, and find your name throughout the journey."

How much does it take for someone to lose hope entirely? I wonder, how much. With tears brimming down my own cheeks, I get onto my feet and head to my room. As I reach my own bed, I let my emotions beat me and hunch down by the mattress, weeping silently.

***

The First Ever Third Person

She is sobbing with her tears staining nothing but her own cheeks. Her shoulders shudder when she sniffles, as if a ghost needs oxygen to survive too. A mere light appears behind her, forming a flat oval in the air before a figure walks out of it, soundless.

Unlike the aura surrounding those keepers, this "someone" carries a friendly one instead. His figure is coated with soft, white light which makes him look like a moving beam of light. The expression of hurt flashes across his dark eyes when he takes in every single detail of this room.

Heaving out a sigh which can barely be heard, he walks and half-floats towards the crying girl's soul. "You sound like a howling dead, my dear granddaughter," he comments, landing his wrinkled palm on the girl's head. "Do not give up your hope so quickly, my little girl. It sometimes would stop by and wait for your acceptance. All you need is the courage to try and seek hope."

The girl ceases crying and eventually looks up. "Grandpa?" She mumbles with her nasal tone. Her eyes watery but full of joy at the sight of her lovely grandfather. Without denying those opened arms, she quickly gets up and dives into it, giving the old man her biggest hug with genuine love. "I miss you so much," she whispers with a chuckle, yet her tears are still wetting her face.

"Shadows should be strong. It is flowing in our blood, regardless of our forms - soul or human," says the old man firmly while patting his granddaughter's back.

As both of them breaks the embrace, the girl leads out a bright smile. She's no longer crying as her heart is now filled with the sense of safety and the light of hope. "I won't let you down, grandpa. I will find my way."

"That's the spirit I want to see, Xxxxx my girl." The grandfather praises while ruffling the girl's head. The utter of her name still remains unheard. "Shadows should be strong. This is what I have taught your father."

She gulps when she hears about her father. She remembers herself ignoring her parents' phone call after making the decision to leave home.

Now that her parents have not been calling her since those days of trying to get in touch with her but failed. Will they even know she is hospitalized right now? No one knows, as she never mention about her family to anyone here. "I will remember each and every word, grandpa." The girl promises confidently like a small kid.

"Good." He pats her back again with a satisfied look. "Well, I have to go now. Do not forget that grandpa will always be there with you, in here." As cliche as it can be, the grandfather points at his own heart as he tries to indicate more. "Once you are awaked, go home. You do not deserved to live a life like this."

"I have learnt my lesson," answers the girl neutrally. "I'll see you when I see you, grandpa." She bids, giving the old man her last hug and watching him disappear in her embrace. "Shadows... My family name is Shadows."

She immediately scrambles to her desk and searches for a pen and paper, although she knows she cannot touch everything.

"I just need to try," she murmurs in a whisper until she sees a photograph shielded inside a broken photo frame. The word "Shadows" is carved in block letters on the wooden surface.

Now that she realises this frame is handmade and cannot be replaced. And the person who made this is no doubt - her cordial and loving grandfather.

ᴵ'ᴹ ˢᴼ ˢᴼ ˢᴼᴿᴿᵞ ᶠᴼᴿ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴸᴼᴺᴳ ᴴᴵᴬᵀᵁˢ. ᵀᴴᴵˢ ᴵˢ ᴬ ᶠᴿᴱˢᴴ ᴺᴱᵂ ᶜᴴᴬᴾᵀᴱᴿ ᶠᴼᴿ ᵞᴼᵁ ᴬᴸᴸ, ᴹᵞ ᴸᴼᵛᴱᴸᵞ ᴵᴹᴾᴼˢˢᴵᴮᴸᵞˢ. ˢᵀᴬᵞ ᵀᵁᴺᴱᴰ ᶠᴼᴿ ᴬᴺᴼᵀᴴᴱᴿ ˢᵁᴿᴾᴿᴵˢᴱ ᴵᴺ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴺᴱˣᵀ ᵁᴾᴰᴬᵀᴱ ❤