A petal gracefully kissed my cheek. It stays a while, remaining peaceful upon my reddish skin. And for the first time, my purple bruise was hidden by a simple touch of a flower.
I could almost picture myself inside my head -just a little girl, lying broken on the bed of soft grass, not knowing what to do and either not giving a damn anymore.
Despite the scars and bruises and pain and tears, the sky above the cherry blossom is overwhelming. Not only that, but also the birds chirping, the leaves rustling, and the sweet tone of silence.
How can the silence be so sweet?
It was only, of course, when the harsh wind came storming into the midst of the song.
After all, peace is never permanent.
"So this is where you take shelter from us, loser?" instead of being frightened of the owner of the voice, her approach just made me put on a smile. A sly smile.
And it began.
A hard fist appeared in my sight. Then it went fast, landing on my already beat-up stomach. The stinging pain crawled upwards to my chest, to the extent that I can almost spill red liquid all over the grasses, and the feeling could never be more familiar.
I'm afraid I'll grow up used to this kind of pain.
Then another hand held my hair. It digs deeper against my scalp and I knew I can no longer escape from the next torture. Before I could get myself up, I was dragged across the ground.
"This is what you get when you meddle in our business, you dumb piece of shit!" a horrible nickname replaced my true identity.
Then laughter filled the place. Yet it soon died down when they already walked meters and meters away.
I sighed as I try to sit up. But I felt tired. Heck, even just breathing is already exhausting in my state.
I didn't take my eyes off from the hovering clouds above the horizon. Again, the scenery made the problems vanish themselves away. Like, none of these happened.
"I think you'll need this," a voice suddenly sounded.
I turned to my left and saw a boy sitting next to me.
"Who are you?" is only I replied.
"It doesn't matter. Our names are just symbols of our existence, not of who we truly are," he answered instead.
And I couldn't agree more to that. Then I noticed that he was actually lending me a band-aid. But... for what?
He sighed at my confused expression. I only watched him open the band-aid and carefully sticks it on my wrist. That's also the time I realized I was bleeding.
What else are there that I still haven't noticed? Seems like everything.
He also opened up another band-aid and my gaze followed him where he was going to put it. To my surprise, he was also wounded at the wrist, very similar to mine.
Where does this boy even came from? I thought I'm the only one who knows about this place, and well, of course, to those bullies who found me and ruined everything just recently.
Even though he got a point, I still want to know his name.
I wonder who he is.
