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Ever since my dad has collapsed, all I wanted to do was to compose and nothing else. I wrote and sang songs that I thought could save anyone who listened to them. It’s a curse to me, in a way, but I had to make do with it.
All I sang and wrote about are all my emotions just pouring out onto my music. Anguish, suffering, sadness, all of them I slap dashed into the songs I created.
And somehow, I saved a few people. I was surprised, so I kept composing. I needed to make more of those songs, a lot more. There were thousands more to save after all.
Yet I didn’t know I was digging my early grave.
I composed, composed, and composed until my own body caved in on itself. My health was at its worst, but did I care about that at all when there’s more people to pull out of the darkness? No.
Hunger, thirst, headaches and cramping of my arms, nothing stood in my way of saving people that needed saving, not even myself.
It’s as if I wanted to become some sort of god. A god that can save people from whatever darkness they're fighting against. I wanted to become the light.
Time passes and I meet them, my fellow circle members. Yuki, Enanan and Amia.
I saw a lot of it, their scars. Their open wounds. Their pain. And when I did, I wanted to save them.
Honestly, now that I look back at it, it was a dumb idea to even think that I, a fragile, ghastly looking small girl, could save them from all their pains.
Maybe it was because of my inflated ego. Maybe it’s because I merely composed for my own satisfaction rather than actually wanting to save anyone at all.
I wanted to hear them say “I was saved by your songs, K.”
Who actually thinks that my songs, my screaming, all of my emotions, can save these three? I was the only one who thought that, really. After all…
I just want to become their God.
Everyday, I worked and worked, composed and composed, not even Hypnos, can lull me into his arms. No rest for the wannabe god.
No rest for me and my curse.
It was no wonder that I had passed on this early.
Let’s be honest with ourselves. Can they even be saved if their hearts are already tattered and bruised and oozing with pain and loneliness?
I thought I could.
And look at where I ended up.
It’s like I’m the modern day Icarus. I flew too close to the sun, to the summit, and I fell.
Down.
.
.
.
.
Down.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Down.
And one day I woke up and I was not inside my own body anymore, I became merely an apparition.
I watched as they screamed in pain, saying that “K is a fighter, don’t you dare say that the spark of her flame would die off that easily”. I watched as they clenched my cold body into their arms, crying and begging.
Heck, even Yuki cried on that day.
Back then I thought that I would become a great composer like my dad, and he told me I had been born with a talent to make people happy with what I composed.
Guess I couldn’t do that.
Sorry, dad.
I couldn’t save anyone at all.
Not even myself.
And look at me now. Watching the people closest to me fall deeper into despair as they try to overcome the thought of my untimely parting.
I’m a failure of a god.
Haha…
Why did I even try to become one in the first place?