I dragged my feet along the thick wet ground and cursed at the thundering heavens for the crime I had committed in the name of self-defense. What did I gain from my actions? Nothing. Nothing at all. Not even the sense of security. I've always been so occupied, so fully filled with the burning passion of bringing that lady back into my life, that there was never a room for myself in me. My sister! Great heavens! Why must my caretaker separate me from my other half? We were one person throughout my childhood days, and childhood days are like dried ink upon newspapers. They took me away from the person I knew better than I did my own shadow. 

If only proper conversing was this family's strong suit, none of this would have happened.

Raindrops fell between the crowded leaves above my head. This forest is well-known for its inciting gloom. There had been about twenty suicide cases reportedly took place in here for the past one week. No one would suspect a damn thing. I should be fine. Besides, I did it all in the name of self-defense. Everyone would find it acceptable, no?

Upon walking uphill, I found that a forest roach had made its way onto my leg. I detest insects wholeheartedly. The cursed thing was as big as my middle-finger, but it was black and crusty. I kicked it off my leg and, in doing so, slipped and fell down the muddy track like a wounded swine. To the heavens, I cursed some more and received a ground-shaking thunder in response.

It was starting to get dark. I had lost track of time, and I was cluelessly lost in the middle of the suicide forest. I might as well just die here, I thought, but then what was the point of all my efforts?

As I slowly got up to my feet, a flash of light blinded my sights. I cursed to the source of the blinding light. How dare they?

"Are you injured?" A frail voice. The light was then changed to glowing mode, a lot friendlier and less eye-gouging, and there, I saw the face of a blonde little girl whose eyes were as blue as summer's sky.

"I am not weak," I told her. When I set my eyes to the ground, I saw red all over my clothes.

Perhaps I had fainted from the sight of my own blood seeping into my white shirt. I was in a tent when I awoke, and my black dirtied suit rested atop me like a blanket, but offered no warmth. I looked around and, as my weak gaze reached the opening of the tent, she went in with a small cooking pot which emitted white smoke.

"You're awake!" she exclaimed with a cheerful expression. No one in my mansion had ever reacted upon my waking like that, not even my most trusted butler by whom I had been taken care of since the disappearance of my other half. "Oh, how I thought you had died!"

"Foolish maggot! Couldn't you hear me breathing?" I said.

She put down the cooking pot and invited me to have a look at her cooking. It was the loveliest thing I had ever seen, only second to its maker. The soup smelled so good that it could seduce a person who had just swallowed three elephants into downing a bowl or two of it and still would ask for more.

"I guessed you must be hungry, so I made this for us. Come, let's warm our stomachs with this. This is all I have left. I don't know what life has in store for me after this. I don't know… Oh, God, I don't know!"

After saying that, she laughed so loud I thought she changed into a whole different creature, but when the laugh ended, she turned back into that lovely being again. I felt my heartbeat calming down.

"That laugh was abhorrent! I thought of my father's wife for a terrifying moment." I composed myself and fixed my sitting.

The lovely girl stared an empty gaze at the soup. She looked so stiff that I thought time had freezed.

"When the afternoon sky isn't too bright and the air is blowing just right, I would visit places filled with my childhood memories and hope to cross paths with anyone from the homely old days, where my mind was yet to be tainted with filth. Maybe they'll ask me if I'm doing fine…." She paused. "Maybe this time I'll give an honest answer."

After she finished reciting that passage, I asked her with genuine concern, "Are you okay?"

"Are you someone that existed in my past?"

"I don't recall ever seeing such a lovely thing like you. You've brought joy into my current life and I have been living in the pit of misery. If we had crossed paths in the past, I doubt I would ever let that memory fade away and be forgotten."

I was half expecting her to beam like a firefly at midnight, but she showed no change in expression. Hastily, to eliminate the silence between us, I added, "But should you wish to have me as a part of your past, then allow me to convey a request that requires a promise from both you and I."

"And what will that promise be?"

"Judging from your stay in this forest, I assume you know very well what kind of future awaits you, and it is a very short one, is it not? I came here also for a reason, but I assure you it is far different from yours, if my assumption was correct." I reached out my hand to touch her chin. Her skin was soft as silk. Her round eyes shifted to meet mine. I almost forgot what to say next. "Our meeting was written in the stars, and more than anything I hope to meet you again someday in the near future. That way, when that day arrives, you can say I am someone that existed in your past, for this moment will become the past, when that day arrives."

We spent the night talking about our world after we finished the soup she made with what was left of her hope. She did not confirm my assumption, but told me about her family's difficult situation regarding debts, which only strengthened my confidence in my belief.

The night felt very long, but I could only wish for it to be longer than forever. Laying beside her, I had to hold myself from wanting to reach my hand out to caress the back of her head.

"Should you ever need a place to stay, you are more than welcome to meet me at my mansion," I said and gave her my home address. "I've talked to so many people without ever telling them my name, but I don't want to be remembered by you without a label. My name's Liam Heisenberg."

"Elias," she whispered, still facing the other direction, "Elias Roosevelt."

"Sounds like a boy's name, to be honest." Her breathing stopped after I delivered my thoughts out loud. "Emily suits you better."

"What on earth do you mean?"

Her tone changed. At that moment, I thought the worst thing had happened: I made her angry. But her remarks after I repeated my opinion on her name struck me raw with an excruciating terror, and it left a deep rotting scar in my soul.

She turned around. Her eyes filled with aggressive confusion. I wanted to pee and puke and pass away.

"I am a boy."