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where are you?

by Tram Duong

By Tram DuongPublished 3 years ago 2 min read
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I never really liked jewelry. It’d either turn me green or break, so I never saw the point. It was never “me” anyways. For some reason though, I still carry around your necklace like it’s my own source of life. Strange how one person can flip your world upside down and suddenly, everywhere you look, you can see them, smell them, hear them, feel them, and even taste them. After you went missing, the locket was the only thing I had of you. It was the only thing I really had at all, really. Silly necklace… How this little trinket can hold so much hope for someone who might just be dead. It’s been weeks since I last saw you, and now the only times I can see you is when I open this god-forsaken necklace. I hope you are well, though. The search for you is what has kept me alive. I don’t know what I’ll do knowing that you’re gone. The air around me collapses my lungs with every breath I take and I am nothing more but rattling bones blanketed in sheer skin. The stench of corpses is unbearable and I have nobody left, not even a ghost of a peer. I have no salvation besides this broken street lamp. I feel myself slowly losing my sanity. What would I do without you? Please, someone! Dear God, I cannot be alone here. The silence is deafening! I can’t do this alone! Please come back to me, where are you? Damn this necklace! Where are you?!

A shadow of a man walks slowly towards me. The closer he got I saw his hands dripping of blood and his body laced with torn clothes. I called out to him both relieved and terrified, he didn’t respond and before I could see his face, a hand with a gun rose from the fog, and from there, he ended my life, my suffering. A tear fell as the life drained from my body as I got one last look at the man. It was you, wasn’t it? It was. I suppose I can rest my soul now I know that you were alive, but a sadness grew in my decaying heart. Why? In my final seconds, I watched you take the locket from my hands and threw it down onto the concrete, smashing it to a point of no retreival. It was painful, but why did I feel so at peace? I closed my eyes for the last time as our fondest memories replayed in my head. Thank you and goodnight.

Short Story
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About the Creator

Tram Duong

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