Her name is Lisa. She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I love the way she looks. Her long wavy hazelnut colored hair with charcoal printed along the top loose on her back. Her eyes shine so bright beneath the color of cocoa and shaped like an almond. Her skin is as smooth as the porcelain. She’s almost perfect. And her smile is my favorite. When she smiles, her lips create the curve of crescent, glazed by peach.
Her name is Lisa. I think, she’s my first love. Her eyes, her smile, and the most is her personality, has made me fall into her since I was five. Seems so weird, right? I think I was too young to fall in love. But as the time goes by, I realize that I do really fall into her. It must be the way she looks, the way she walks. Or her laughter, her brightness, her mind, and her soul. The way she respect others, how she love the earth and take care of it, or probably the way she appreciate people. The way she treat people, animals and the Mother Nature. She’s smart. Not only because she gained a lot of A in the class, but also her ability to make people love her and still humble.
Her name is Lisa. The girl I met about a month ago. But I think she wasn’t the same Lisa which I fall into twelve years ago. On that moment, I saw into her eyes, and saw something different. I can’t really tell. It still the same eyes, still the cocoa almond-shaped eyes. But they weren’t the same either. I saw blank eyes, filled with darkness, sorrow and fear. I knew it, as I saw the dark circle around her beautiful eyes that once dazzled and shined so bright. The eyes once filled with happiness, joy and hope. I can really tell, on that moment, her body shook and her lips tremble. I swear, I can hear she was mumbling something I can’t really understood. Her eyes drowned by her tears, and suddenly it came into branch of river along her cheek. Something wasn’t on the track anymore.
That’s not her… I said repeatedly, just to convincing myself. I looked into her face, and I saw every value she’d been hold on all this time just slipped.
“I want to die, Danny…” She spluttered. Her voice echoed in my head. “I don’t know how to handle it. I just can’t”
I wished I could slap myself just to make sure whether it’s a dream or not. But I stood still, tried to act strong. I put my hand on her shoulder gently, said nothing but gave her a slight curve of mine.
And I regret it.
I regret that I said nothing to her.
Now, with a bucket of roses in my hand, I stand here. On the graveyard. Or exactly, in front of Lisa’s gravestone.
Beloved daughter, sister and best friend of many
A week after Lisa committed suicide, I knew that she has been using drug since three years ago. This information shoots me and breaks me into pieces. According to what I’ve heard, she loaned a lot of money and became a drug dealer. And I regret it. I regret, not just because I said nothing. I regret that I never asked what’s wrong, and couldn’t be with her when she needed help, and didn’t hold her hand when loose her grip.
I regret it.
I regret that on that day, I said nothing.
And I feel warm salty liquid flowing down my cheeks.