Azalea
It’s Christmas Eve. It’s just a quarter to Christmas. The moon shone brightly, the snow on the earth bounced the dim light off, brightening the area. The silence was so peaceful like always. There were no couples or even a single presence of man in the park, it was considered dangerous since that incident occurred. I was sitting on a bench in the park watching the ever slow-paced movement of the night. Time flowed slowly . . .
There she was, under the biggest tree in the park gazing upon the lonely moon. Her eyes so dull so lifeless. She leaned against the tree and gazed the moon this time every year. This is the third year.
“Hey . . .” I tried to raise my voice a little “Hey you over there!”
Still, she stood there gazing the moon.
“I’ll talk to myself if you don’t mind.” I pause for a moment waiting for her response. She did not answer nor did she care.
“There was this story, a love story. In an unknown year of some country, human are very advance and they decided to explore the space. The honorable job for people is to be a pilot to explore the outer space. The girl got that job and was sent to space. First they sms each other likes all couple did. They were happy at that moment as they did not know what fate has in store for them.” I pause for a moment and pick up a bottle I’ve brought with me and drank.
“Fate huh . . .” she walk toward me “get up, I’m sitting here.”
“So, I did catch your interest?” I asked playfully.
“What is fate?” she paused a moment “my boyfriend were stabbed to death here during Christmas eve.”
Her tone was flat and they sounded lifeless. She raises her hand to reach the necklace around her neck and held it tightly saying that was the last thing her boyfriend gave her before leaving.
“I don’t know much about fate but I know this’ll help you.” I said firmly.
“The story goes on with the girl having to go farther into space to pursue the enemies that attack their spaceship right wing. So, with steps she took the longer the message can get to earth. First it took hours to exchange message then it took days. Soon, it took months and not long it took years. It’s been 6 years and the boy received the last message from the girl.” I paused a moment and take a sip.
“So, what was that?” she asked.
“Hmm… I thought you’d never ask.”
The last message was: I’m glad I’ve met you . . . it’s painful to think that you’d probably forget about me after those years. I’ve learned that it’s better for us to let go.
“I think that’s the right choice.” I stood up and took a flower from my pocket and give it to her “It’s Azalea.”
“For?” she puzzled.
I bend down close to her ear and whispered.
The clock’s arrow starts ticking again, the wind start blowing gently. I smiled and she was dripping in tears holding onto the flower and say “I will and I’m sorry.
Take Care of Yourself for Me
