Chapter 22

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Taehyung,

Your parents are dead. They died in their sleep. A heart attack.

I stood there at their funeral envying them. They so easily escaped from this never ending pain. Why cant i?

I am just breathing. The air going inside my body and coming out. I am existing. I figured that is my only job now, that is the only thing I can do. That is the only thing left, that I am capable of accomplishing.

So I will breathe.

Until a day, I don't.

🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂

Aria gasped out loudly, blindly throwing the letter away. Her chest had a tightness in it and her throat had long ago closed up. She was crying the tears, her grandma could not cry.

Aria let out a wail of pain, sobbing out at the pain Fate had delivered the two young lovers.

"Gran-gran-grandma!" she sobbed as she thought of the young girl, waiting for her groom to return, excited and waiting to be married to the person she lived for.

Only to be given the news of his death.

Aria choked, thinking about the utter disbelief, the utter denial her grandmother would have felt. A girl, who grew up with one boy, played with him, shared all her secrets with him, loved him. Gave herself to him, waited for a future with him and was suddenly told, he was no longer alive.

A gust of wind swept her room, tilting the bottle to make it fall before her.

"Yo-you are sti-still waiting f-fo-for him?" She asked the room.

That somehow broke her heart even more.

58 years had passed since her death, and she still remained here, waiting. . .

But then? Her grandfather?

Aria wiped her tears and drank a little water. Right now, she had to complete the remaining few letters, if she didn't, if she stopped now, then she would never have the strength to carry on.

The next few letters were heartbreaking, destroying her as she read through the way her grandmother navigated in a time when she did not know what to do.

With each letter, her handwriting grew increasingly careless, the words no longer flowing. She wrote a jagged sentences strung together with information she wished to convey.

With each letter, Aria understood, that her Grandmother had been dying. The pain she had written about, was consuming her in a noose, tightening it. she was giving into it, nobody capable of pulling her out of it.

Until, she reached a letter that confirmed the nascent suspicions she had.

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