Chapter 7
1808words
I slowly stood up, not answering a single word to them. My movements were stiff and mechanical, like a robot programmed for its final task.
"Mike, where are you going?" Sarah's voice was filled with panic. She tried to grab me, but I avoided her.
I didn't look at her. My gaze was firmly locked on the bookshelf in the corner of the living room. I had only one target. I walked over to the bookshelf, crouched down, and unzipped the worn-out briefcase. My hands were trembling, not out of fear, but because of an impending, fateful end. I felt it—the cold, rough cylinder.
Holding the kaleidoscope, I turned and walked toward Lily's room.
"Dad?" Lily followed behind me, her voice tinged with a hint of timidity.
I didn't look back. I just stepped into her room. This room, the place I had once broken into to retrieve her, the starting point of everything, would now become the end of it all. Everything in the room was neatly arranged, filled with the essence of life, but to me, it was nothing but desolation. A poster of "Captain Bear" was on the wall, and the bookshelf was packed with the books she loved now. Not a single thing belonged to "me."
I turned around and looked at Lily, who had followed me in. She stood right in front of me, alive and healthy, her big eyes filled with confusion and concern for me. She was lovely, she was wonderful. But she wasn't my Lily.
I crouched down so she could look at me at eye level. I reached out and gently touched her hair. It was soft, just as I remembered. But I knew that beneath this softness lay a completely unfamiliar soul. She didn't remember "The Rabbit Under the Stars," our secret nose-touching pact, or the prank she once played by hiding my glasses to keep me from reading those "boring books." She and I had no shared past. We were strangers.
"Dad, what's wrong?" she asked softly, tentatively reaching out to touch my face.
I grabbed her small hand, then, with all my strength, held her tightly, tightly in my arms. I buried my face in her hair and took a deep breath. That faint milky scent, so characteristic of a child, was exactly the same as the deceased Lily in my memory. But this resemblance now felt like the sharpest blade, slowly carving my heart into pieces.
I was holding an illusion. A perfect illusion I had forcefully created at the cost of others' pain and my own memories. Did I love her? No. What I loved was the symbol she represented—the symbol of a "living Lily." What I truly loved was the one girl who had vanished into the river of time—the girl who was unique, who would act spoiled with me, throw tantrums, and pout to correct me when I got a story detail wrong. The girl who existed only in my memory, and who was now being erased by my own hands.
I could no longer continue to erase her. Even to preserve this illusion, I couldn't do it. That would be the most cruel betrayal to her, to everything that truly existed between us.
"I'm sorry." I released her, my voice so hoarse it was almost inaudible. These two words were not for the her before me, but for the her I cherished. I'm sorry, I almost forgot you completely.
I stood up, no longer looking at her. I didn't want to see that unfamiliar, worried expression on her face anymore. That expression only made me more acutely aware of what a pitiful intruder I was.
Clutching the nearly shattered kaleidoscope in my hand, I walked out of the room. Sarah was anxiously waiting at the door, and as soon as she saw me, she rushed forward.
"Michael, what on earth is going on? Talk to me!" She grabbed my arm, shaking me vigorously, trying to wake me from this state of silence.
I looked at her, at her face filled with pain and exhaustion. My heart felt as if it were being tightly clenched by a fist, hurting so much I could barely breathe. I owed her too much. I owed her a life without lies, owed her a real husband who could share her suffering. And I, this impostor, couldn't give her these things. The only way to make up for all of this was to let myself, along with all the mistakes I had brought, disappear completely.
"Sarah..." I finally spoke, my voice sounding as if it came from another world. "Take care of her. Take care of yourselves."
"What nonsense are you talking about! Where are you going?" She looked at me in panic, gripping me even tighter.
I didn't answer. I just used my other hand to gently, yet firmly, pry her hand off my arm. Then, right in front of her, I raised the kaleidoscope.
"No! Mike! Don't!" She seemed to instantly understand what I was about to do and let out a desperate scream.
I hesitated no longer. I aimed the kaleidoscope's viewing hole at my eye. This time, there was no light inside, only a chaotic darkness. The cracks on the kaleidoscope emitted a faint, ominous glow, as if from the depths of hell, the moment I tightened my grip. The light was dim, like a candle flickering in the wind, on the verge of extinguishing at any moment. I knew this was my last chance. My "fuel" had run out, and this final "resonance" would completely drain all my memories and existence.
I didn't recall any pain. I didn't think of anything. I simply emptied myself, condensing my consciousness into a single, pure desire—
To return. To before everything began. No, to the moment everything ended.
The sensation of consciousness being pulled away was weaker than ever before, yet the pain was more intense. It wasn't like being torn apart, but rather like being slowly, bit by bit, ground into dust. I felt my thoughts, my emotions, my past—everything that constituted the concept of "me"—being dissolved and annihilated in this process. I was no longer myself; I was turning into pure nothingness.
Then, just at the final moment when I felt I was about to disappear completely, I "saw" it.
The cold rain, the piercing sirens, the flashing red and blue lights, and the panicked screams and murmurs of the crowd. Once again, I was back at that street corner, the starting point of all the pain in my life.
I "saw" myself, the true me from a year ago, kneeling like a soulless shell on the cold, damp asphalt soaked with a mix of rain and blood. His hair was drenched, clinging tightly to his forehead, his face devoid of any color, only a deathly pallor of despair. In his arms lay Lily, my true Lily. Her small body was no longer moving, and her favorite yellow raincoat was stained with a glaring patch of dark red that was being washed fainter by the rain. Her eyes were half-open, devoid of any light, leaving only a hollow, frozen gaze.
That "me" held her, motionless, like a statue instantly weathered by time. His world had completely collapsed the moment the blue truck came rushing toward them.
This time, I felt no anger, no resentment, no mad impulse to rush over and change anything. My consciousness was like a cold, indifferent ghost floating in mid-air, quietly watching this scene. Watching this tragedy that I had once desperately tried to change. I saw the intense trembling of "that me's" body and sensed the pain in his chest—a pain so overwhelming it could destroy the world, yet it was ruthlessly suppressed. That pain, I once felt it deeply. But now, I could no longer feel it. My emotions, my feelings, along with my memories, had all been burned to ashes.
I only had one last task left. A task so simple, yet so incredibly difficult.
With the last ounce of my strength, I gathered my remaining, dissipating consciousness into a single sentence, a single thought, a final whisper from a ghost of the future. Slowly, laboriously, I delivered it to the version of myself kneeling on the ground, utterly shattered, on the verge of having my soul forever imprisoned by guilt.
I could feel my existence growing thinner, like morning mist evaporating rapidly under the sunlight. I had to hurry.
With the last energy of my life, I softly spoke to the version of myself who, unable to accept reality, was about to descend into madness and obsession—
"…This… is not your fault."
My voice, or rather my thought, brushed past the ear of that "me" like a barely audible breeze. I saw his stiff body tremble slightly, but he remained deeply immersed in overwhelming grief, unable to break free.
No, it wasn't enough. I was almost gone. I had to make him hear. I had to… set him free.
My presence had blurred to its limit, the scene before me began to fill with snowflakes and noise, like a TV with poor signal. I used the last, final bit of energy to plant that most important word, the one he would never be able to achieve in his lifetime, like a seed, into his heart.
"... Let go."
Yes, let go. Release the gradually cooling body in your arms, let go of that moment that will haunt you with regret for life, let go of the endless torment of "what if" and "if only." Accept it, and then... live on.
Carry the memory of her, and live on.
Don't be like me.
Don't walk this path I've taken.
As this final thought was conveyed, I felt the last trace of "me" completely dissipate. I saw that "me" kneeling on the ground, who, upon hearing this whisper as if from beyond the heavens, finally could no longer contain himself and let out a heart-wrenching, beast-like wail while holding Lily's body. That cry was full of despair, yet it also seemed... to release something.
My consciousness sank completely into an eternal darkness devoid of color, sound, and time. At the very end, a thought flashed through my mind before I completely faded away—
That cracked kaleidoscope, this time, was probably truly shattered.
