In Japanese culture, there is a concept of “kami”. It basically means that spirits reside in natural objects and have memory. But I’m telling you, if places remembered, they’d definitely remember us. They’d remember our silent sobs, our loud laughs, our silly jokes, our stories, our memories. They’d remember everything, and they’d remember it strongly, and they’d smile at our memories, except for this one.
I was sitting beside her, trying to wipe away my tears so that she wouldn’t notice, trying to make her laugh, trying to forget what place we are in right now, trying to make it like the old times. But no matter how much I tried, the thought kept lurking in my mind, I tried to push it away, but it was much stronger than my positivity, much stronger.
So, I let the thought stay where it is, and kept talking, trying to dissolve it within our conversations, our memories, and when I closed my eyes, I almost forgot.
“Always?” I asked,
“Always.” She said, and gave me her doll to play with forever. We barely even knew each other, but that day, we decided to be best friends, more like sisters, honestly. We invited each other into our lives and never looked back.
And that was the first ever promise we made to each other.
The tears that stung my face made me snap back to reality, I looked at her and expected her to be crying, in pain, but she was smiling, that priceless smile I was so used to seeing, it was unbelievable how I’d never see her smile again…or her tears, or the way her nose scrunched when she was angry. This was our last girls’ night together, in a hospital room with gloomy grey walls, where flowers were being watered by tears, where the winds whispered “death” in your ear over and over again. I could almost hear the future laughing at me on my face in the silence, but it was broken by her, when she said, “I might not grow up, we both may not grow old together, but even after I die, my ghost will haunt you.”
I laughed, but a part of me wished it were true, at least I could make memories with her ghost if she was gone. I wouldn’t be able to hug her, or playfully punch her shoulder, or slap her face, but at least she’d be there with me.
“Remember when we wanted to never grow up as children? Looks like God granted that wish for me.” The tears came again, but when I looked at her, she was smiling. “That’s not a bad thing though, no need to face the world, no stupid relatives passing comments on my looks, I won’t have to see wrinkles on my face. It’s not all bad.” I tried to laugh, I wanted to, but that would add another memory to miss after she was gone. I won’t see her everyday anymore, I won’t hear her voice after this day, she won’t ever call me up at midnight just because she was bored, she would never cry on my shoulder again.
“Promise me something.” She said, “You will keep living for me, you won’t ever forget me. We’ll always stay together in your memories.”
“I promise.” My tears blurred her face, and just like that, I was three again. “Always?”
“Always.” She closed her eyes and gave me all the memories that would be all I would have to live with for the rest of my life. We knew each other very well now; we also knew that “always” would never be true. Yet I made the promise.
And that was the last promise we ever made to each other.
About the author
Deetya is just another teenager, trying to find her way in this world. She is an aspiring psychologist and aims to be able to connect with people through her writing. While not studying or having a creative burst, you can find her lost in a new book, or playing the guitar and singing to herself.
10/10 literally sobbing
thanks for publishing it 🫶🏻🫶🏻