"My eyes are tired of crying over your absence."

❛❛「₪」❜❜

John's P.O.V

We went to my section of the society. And I stood right under the balcony of the house, which was once mine. Everything seemed so fresh, as if it was just yesterday. As if not a single thing had changed here. As if I was still the same 16 year old Jonathan Hunt, standing there, in awe, confusion, pain and guilt. Having no idea what is to be done next. Having no idea what just happened. Having no idea why it happened. As if I was still the same 16 year old Jonathan Hunt, standing under the balcony of his house. His bare feet soaked in his sister's blood. Her body lying in front of him. Dead.

"Everything has changed so much over here." Elliz Ellis said.

"No. Nothing has." I looked at her.

"Well I agree with my girlfriend!" Adam shrugged.

"Nothing. Has. Changed. Every goddamn thing is still here Adam." I yelled.

Adam suddenly looked concerned. He stepped towards me.

"I am sorry." I said. "I need some rest."

"Alright I will drop- Jonathan?" Before he could say anything, I ran out of the place. I stopped the first car and requested the man inside of it, for a lift.

"Which way are you going?" The man in the car asked.

"Opposite to yours." I said.

"Well, then why not you try someone else?"

"Just drop me till the highway." I begged.

"Alright. Get in." He said.

I just wanted to get away from there. Because I knew if Adam and Elizabeth would find me, they would ask me several things about what happened to me all of a sudden. And I didn't want to be talked about it.

The man dropped me at the highway and I booked a cab and reached home. Adam and Elizabeth were constantly calling me and texting me. And I know they cared, but I was not in a condition.

I didn't bother about any goddamn thing in the house. Just threw my watch and shoes on the floor and stepped inside the room, slamming the door shut. I tried a lot to sleep. But I couldn't. I kept staring at the stars.

Mum would always say that people who die, turn into stars. And I looked at them, looking for my family. Maybe my father was up there, looking at how different his son was than him. How he would save so many lives, and how I couldn't even save one life. Maybe, my mother was looking at me and wondering what has been bothering me all these years. And maybe, even Emma was looking at me?

Maybe, she would look at me with tearful eyes, as if wanting to ask me why I did that. She was there because of me. Would she be thinking, "Why did you do that to me?" or even worse, "You killed me."

"You killed me Jonathan, you killed me. You killed me."

Her words were going on my head.

I am a murderer. A murderer. A murderer.

I got up from the bed and threw the first thing I saw. I screamed at the top of my voice. I screamed and screamed, until my throat became sore. As I went in front of the mirror, and saw that scar on my head.... things came back to me. I was back in that life, a life with a family.

When I was seven, a little mature to understand how death works, I was told that my father was dead. I would constantly ask my mom, why I didn't have a father. She said he was an army man, and he had pledged his life to save the country, when my mother was four months pregnant.

When I was 15, I decided I would go on my dad's path, and be an army man. I had never really cried for my father. For me, it was a matter of pride to be a son of a patriot. But I would not really miss him, because I never really had him. Sometimes, I WOULD cry and mourn for not having a father, when I would see other families, and kids playing with their dads. But I never really cried for HIM in particular.

At the age of 16, I told Emma and mum about my decision. Emma was really proud and happy. But, my mother didn't like it.

"John, look. Be anything you want to be. But don't risk your life. Please Honey." Mom said.

"I want to be in the army. I want to serve our country." I defended.

"Live your life!" She yelled.

"What's the use of living a life, when you don't live it the way you want to?"

"John, you don't get it. I-"

I went away before letting her complete. I wanted to live my life. I wanted to be happy.

I went straight out of the house, on the terrace of our building.

It was night, and I was looking at the stars. Wondering if father really was a star. When I heard footsteps.

"Hey, Johnny Boy." Emma said.

"Don't try to convince me Emma." I told her.

"Turn around." She said with her soft voice. And I did.

"Look. You have to understand. Mom has already lost dad."

"I know Emma." I said stepping a bit forward.

"She is just insecure." She explained as she went behind me, finding space between me and the edge of the terrace.

"But then-" I was about to say something, when I felt her hands around my waist.

"Don't worry John. We will figure this out." She said. And before she could say anything, I released her hands from me pushed it away in frustration, not realizing that this place wasn't safe for the pushing business.

I heard her scream.

And it still haunts me.

I turned behind.

She was still falling.

She was still alive.

I had a chance.

But I let her go.

No.

I killed her.

I killed my sister.

I had seen the transition from life to death. I had seen her struggling for life. I had seen her scream. Asking for help. And the next second, everything was quiet. Just the sound of her body falling on ground. Just a thud. And then, everything paused.

"Emma!!!!" I screamed.

I rushed down. And I gazed at her. Not knowing what to do. My legs soaked in her blood. She was dead. I had killed her. And nobody knows that. Just me and her. But 'her' was dead.

My sister was taken to the hospital, but she was dead. And I ran to my house, waiting for my mother to come back from the hospital. Waiting for her to tell me that she was alive. But no. I killed her.

"How did this happen John?"

"I - I don't know mom. I don't know."

I so wanted to cry in her embrace. But I went in my room and didn't open it for days. And the first thing I did, was stand in front of the mirror, and bang my head on it. The scar was permanent. But I couldn't exchange it for her life. I couldn't even exchange my life for hers.

She was never coming back. Never.

And a year later, my mother died of heart attack. My whole family, was now just stars.

Ash's P.O.V.

"John, pick up the call." Katie said.

She was worried. And I didn't know what to say. I was just lying there. My abdomen hurting as hell. And my body weakening every moment.

"103!" Katie said in awe, as she read my temperature.

"I am taking you to the hospital. John isn't picking up." She added.

I wish he was here.

Some time later, I was taken to the hospital on a stretcher. And I have no idea what happened after that. Because the doctors made me unconscious.

TPWK.
Vreha x