Morning. Not that there would have been a single sign that it was morning. The sun hasn’t risen in years. And all hands on each clock stay forever frozen. The world in its current state stays in an eternal twilight. Because the only person who was my light is gone forever. 
 
Dark. Every day is dark and dreary. Colors have faded away to monochrome. Sounds silenced to muteness. There’s not a trace of light slipping through the gap in the ragged window curtains. Not even the faintest hum of noise from the air conditioner unit on the ceiling. The mattress I’m lying down on is cold, as is the rest of the world. Ever since she died, everything else in the world died along with it. At first, I felt bitter about a death so preventable. But eventually that bitterness turned to sadness. I cried until there were no longer any tears left to cry. So now there’s just nothing. 
 
I would introduce myself... if only there was someone to introduce. Because it would be generous to even call me a person. People have personalities. I’m just a husk of a body lying down on my bed and staring at the ceiling while bathing in my own indolence. Why eat or sleep when it's all pointless? My “self” has long since vanished, and in its place a detached consciousness staring inward at a hollow avatar. It’s the kind of sensation you can’t really understand unless you’ve experienced it yourself personally. As for myself, I’ve long since been all too familiar with that feeling prodding from the corner of my consciousness. At first, I thought I was going insane, but eventually my ability to care whether I was insane or not disappeared, just like my motivation to do anything else. Anything else other than blankly staring at the ceiling forever, yearning for my body to rot and die already. 
 
… 
 
There’s a sound. It’s the first I’ve heard in years. It took me a moment to even recognize it was a sound because it’s been so long since I’ve heard one. It was long and groaning. A creaking of a door. I gathered all the will that I had in order to tell myself to sit up and look around the room, and even then, it was a slow process. A corner of the room immediately caught my eye. I looked over to see a door that was once ajar. 
 
Rather peculiar, I thought. But nothing that warranted any significant amount of curiosity. I was about to flatten myself back down on my bed when something caused me to flinch and reflexively close my eyes for a split second. It was a dim light originating from in front of the doorway, gradually expanding and brightening. It seemed to take a shape and by the time my mind realized that it resembled the shape of a silhouette, she suddenly appeared. 
 
A slender figure in an ornate dress. An ethereal aura seemed to emanate from below her feet which were floating midair in levitation. Her long silky hair curled beautifully in ways that completely defied physics. Her presence was likewise an anomaly that defied all reasonable expectations. I was surprised, to say the least. 
 
A hallucination, or something paranormal like a ghost? I didn’t care for the details. What stood out to me most was the familiarity of her face. I recognized it immediately. That cheerful smile alone, although this time accompanied by a twinge of sadness, was enough to make me feel something close to “warmth” in this freezing room. If only that smile had gotten you farther. The large slash scars on her wrists were a grim reminder. 
 
She inquires softly, “It’s been so long.... when are you finally going to visit me at the cemetery?” 
 
“...” 
 
She whispers while subtly approaching closer, “Still silent, are we? C’moooooon, I’ve been waiting for a long time!” 
 
“...” 
 
I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. It was the initial shock that paralyzed me at first, but it was the succeeding mixture of bitterness and regret that truly prolonged the awkward silence. A complexly nasty concoction of emotions that really left me no choice other than to awkwardly tilt my head downward while averting my eyes and letting the confusion run its course. Eventually I saw her face frown and her figure slowly fade away. Her voice lingers, “I can read the faces you make all too well, y’know? Why feel powerless when there’s nothing you could’ve done? But I guess I can’t blame you, knowing the reason I died...” 
 
“...” 
 
“...!” 
 
Another flash of light. This time, much brighter but evoking the same reaction as last time. When I opened my eyes again, the girl was gone. In place of her was an object resting on my knee. A beautiful rose, but with a strange quality. It took a moment for my mind to even register what this “quality” was, but it eventually happened. 
 
“Red...” I mumbled. 
 
My eyes widen. 
 
“R-Red!” I stammered. 
 
A disproportionately dramatic reaction for such a simple observation. I didn’t realize until that moment how much time had eroded the concept of color within my memory. Not that the color was even that noteworthy, it was a very faded shade of red. Nevertheless, it was still the slightest hint of red within a sea of grey. The sight left me in awe. I was entirely fixated on that object for a long while. 
 
... 
 
A girl’s giggle caused me to flinch. 
 
A familiar voice spoke from no direction in particular. “Now do you understand? There’s still hope. I’ll be watching over you, like always. You know where to go.” 
 
“...” 
 
My head tilted facing the doorway and my eyes peered outside. 
 
So, today’s the day, isn’t it? Never expected it to come. My desire to continue doing nothing was tempting, but I had a duty to fulfill. After dragging myself to the edge of the bed, feeling the joints and muscles in my body ache while doing so, I felt the cold wooden floor against my bare feet for the first time since forever. 
 
I walked out my bedroom door, the stem of the rose clutched in between two fingers, to reach a hallway. I need to get to my front door, but it’ll be a long journey. But it’s one I must take. When I walked down the corridor each thump of my footsteps seemed to reverberate off the walls and vibrate in my ears. But eventually those sounds became less intense, and the rhythm of my footsteps became something of a melody. 
 
… 
 
On the way to the front door, I saw the entrance to her room. I paused my trek to look through the open doorway. A comically large stuffed blue shark was resting on her bed. Although it was completely inanimate, the thing clearly didn’t strike me as some everyday object. Even an alien with no concept of marketable toys could tell that this sacred shark was invaluable. Something about it caused it to emanate it’s own “aura”. The sight was intensely amusing to see. Rather unfortunate that everything else in the room was anything but.  
 
The knife was still there, on the floor in the exact position I remembered, with the same coat of crimson blood now dried. An object sitting in the same puddle of red liquid. A substance drowning the same note written in the same scarlet ink. The mere sight of it was enough to make painful memories overlap my present senses. I grimaced, shook my head, and continued walking. 
 
... 
 
When I reached the front door and after putting on my shoes, I heard her voice again from every direction. 
 
“You know the way to the cemetery, right? I’ll be meeting you there...” 
 
Even that voice alone brought me comfort. I hesitated a moment before touching the doorknob. The sound of the knob turning would mark the first time I’ve seen the outside world since the start of my own voluntary imprisonment. 
 
Though, I can’t say I was expecting much. Outside was every bit as gloomy as inside. 
 
The houses were still intact, but there were none of the giggling children having fun playing outside in front of them. The trees were still there, but with no birds to chirp or leaves to rustle. I could still see the sky, but it wasn’t blue and there weren’t any clouds resembling faces to decorate it. The sight would’ve been absolutely depressing had I not already been overprepared for inevitable disappointment. 
 
The world was completely empty and hollow, so there was no reason to pay it any mind. I started walking. 
 
... 
 
As I continued my journey down the sidewalk, my mind started to go on autopilot. My soul felt even more detached from my body than it did usually. It was just me, alone with my thoughts. 
 
I couldn’t help but wonder, why me? Why were you attached to me, of all people? It’s not like I acted special towards you, or was everyone else just that unkind? I remember you told me... how your acquaintances treated you... how your parents treated you... and it still baffles me. How could people act that way... towards someone so cheerful and bubbly? Of course, I already knew the answer to that question, I just didn’t like it. 
 
I glance down at my hand. A rose, huh? Seeing its reddish tint still intrigues me. Still, never would’ve thought you would’ve been into flowers. Not a particularly unique choice, but it’s one that works. It really does fit your personality. A personality everyone would’ve liked if God didn’t make such a simple mistake. 
 
All these thoughts about the past carried me all the way to the entrance of the cemetery. The chilling city of the dead contained graves positioned closely to each other, except for one outlier that stood out way farther in the back away from all the other graves, obfuscated by a foggy mist. It unmistakably belonged to her. “Wow,” I mumbled before I began stomping towards the grave. “Ostracized even after death, huh?” 
 
… 
 
I stopped and tensely stood in front of the grave. My chest rose and fell as I inhaled and exhaled to regain my composure. A brief pause I took, before glancing over at every single letter of the name inscribed in it. As my retinas scanned over every single character of the big bold print, I could slowly feel the temperature start to rise, and an obnoxious ringing in my ears gradually increasing in volume. It was about halfway through reading it that I took notice of my vision tinted red. I was seething with anger by the time I was done. Hot, boiling rage swelled intensely inside of me, and it was about to erupt into a feral firestorm. I clenched my fists tight, gritted my teeth hard, prepared every single muscle in my body in anticipation as I was ready to lash out and scream... 
 
...But nothing happened. In the end, my legs buckled as tears started to fall down my face. 
 
“You deserved so much better than what anyone could give you...” I managed to say in a voice that wasn’t monotone, as a tear planted itself on the rose in my trembling hand. 
 
I dropped the tear-stained rose on the ground in front of the grave segregated from all the other graves. The one that had her deadname inscribed on it and him written in the lone sentence of the epitaph.  
 
I then began to drag myself out of the cemetery while internally screaming over the reality that circumstances were never going to get better. It’s only ever getting worse. They want to murder all of us and then spit on our graves. Just like they did to her. Just like they did to all my fallen brothers and sisters, along with all my siblings who weren’t brothers or sisters. 
 
And you let it happen. 
 
We scream to the skies, but you seldom hear; when you do, it’s always too late. So thus ends a tale of remembrance for lives lost to ignorance and hate.