My White Moonlight Wants My Substitute to Love Me

They met during that sweltering summer. In the pouring rain, she brought home a man who couldn’t speak.

When autumn arrived, she sat by the window, watching a yellowed, withered leaf drift into her hand, and murmured, “Who has a wedding in autumn?”

The winter snow fell heavily, heavily enough to cover every memory.

She sat by the window, watching him hurry toward her, then leapt down.

She should have died seven years ago. She had only lived seven years longer than she should have.

A smile tugged at her lips as she remembered the girl she had been seven years ago. So this was what being released felt like.