“I will be here forever” were the words I saw this morning. On the couch. The bed. On the toilet walls. It was boldly written in a red colour. Something was weird about it though – all the writings were dripping blood. I was taken aback by what I saw, my hands visibly shaking.
Everywhere was quiet. The early hours of that morning coupled with the rain that just fell sent chills down to my body. I ran back to my room, stood there. Then there was a slight movement. It was slow and gentle. Like a child walking.
I backed into the wall. The tiny voice came, spoke with a shaky tune. The voice sounded familiar. But I couldn’t fathom where I had heard it from or who the owner of the voice was. “I told you I will always be here. Have you forgotten?”
Then I remembered. That night. The scenario. Everything rushed back to me like a strong wave. The memory of that day hit me straight in the head.
Before she died, she made a promise to visit. I didn’t know she would. When still alive, she joked a lot. I didn’t take her serious. That was ten years ago. It took her this long to visit. My precious sister. Then she said.
“When next I visit, we are leaving together. I won’t stay alone there. We will be together. Forever. Ever. And ever.”
No. Did I hear her right? Or is she joking again? I’m not ready to leave this world. Before I could tell her this, she was gone.