Walking outside when its silent and alone.
Then someone out of blue following you, but when you turned around…
There’s no one.
When you kept hearing footsteps and the footsteps are getting near and loud.
Louder and closer.
So, you are starting to run.
But the sound just kept on getting closer.
And then you realized, those footsteps were actually yours.
So you sighed in relive.
But then you felt something wrong.
Something that suddenly popped up.
A cat popped up, out of nowhere.
Then you picked the cat up, and found a necklace.
The necklace was written Lily.
It was written Owned by Lily but then you remembered.
That there was no one named Lily in your neighbor.
Then you put the cat back and thought for awhile.
You checked your phone, searching for a girl named Lily.
Then you found an article.
An article about a girl named Lily.
With big headline, A Girl Named Lily Commit Suicide.
Then you checked the time, three years ago.
Feeling something wrong, you checked the phone clearly and you found the same cat in the corner.
Looking at her lifeless body in a sad expression.
Out of nowhere, you felt dizzy all of the sudden.
In every single piece of those memories were coming back in a rush.
Who was Lily? What was their relationship before? Why was this cat here?
Those questions were coming inside your head, yet instead from remembering for more, you shook your head.
Not wanting those memories to come again.
While holding the cat, you walked again. This time, walking home so you can rest.
But then you heard that footsteps again.
And you realized that wasn’t yours anymore.
Slowly turned back your head and found a girl around your age, calling your name. “Y-yeah?”
“Why were you leaving me behind?” she said softly, but loud enough for you to heard it. “Those skyscrapers are killing me and you were just walking away. I’m upset.” she continued with a sad tone.
“I was not…” you said. Not even realizing that the cat already ran to the girl.
“You were.” she walked closer. Her face were covered with blood, half of them were distroyed.
Her left hand were not in it own shape. Her school’s uniform was quite demage. Her school’s shirt was three-fourth covered with dark red color.
It was a mess.
Herself was a mess.
And out of nowhere, her hand already on your chest.
Pressing her middle finger there, “You know what? it all will over. You’re not going to have anymore grudge, but i’ll give you guilt. My friend.”
That night, everything changed.
The headline changed.