It’s night, but I’m

not dreaming.

It’s night, but I

can see him

highlighted in gold.

Darkness persists through

eons of nothing

until his gold rusts

into bronze;

until my eyes stretch

into rings;

until I can see everything.

It's a city, but there’s

no sound.

It's a city, but only

he is allowed.

I am outside, balancing on

the barrier, pause.

I haven’t moved an inch.

I was born in

this position,

before he crossed.

It’s a house, but

the rooms are empty.

It’s a family, but

a father’s missing.

It’s love, but

it won’t make us happy.

Coming from two countries feels like

isolation.

It’s having two cultures holding a constant battle inside me.

It’s forgetting my mother tongue for a language

that will never forgive me for intruding.

It’s not being accepted in my home country

with words like, “she’s practically a foreigner.”

I don’t know if it’s worse than being raised only seeing white.

An outsider, an outlier, a hybrid-denier

with a tongue carefully twisting around characters

meant to be familiar,

yet stumbling and stuttering and continuously getting used to

words never meant for my mouth.

I was not there when my great-grandfather passed.

I am not there to thank my grandparents enough, to love them enough,

I can’t miss them enough.

At the end of the day, I am still here,

with one foot rooted in the ground and another half

way across the world.

try not to lose your agenda.

it will feel like you lost

your head.

the whole day will pass by you

like you're underwater, you're

swimming, swimming,

people are talking and their lips are moving,

but all you hear are distant gargles.

they're fish, but they don't know it.

you're a fish, and you're the only one

in the deep blue sea.

She was a pretty, little thing.

Everyone knew about her, about how she lived with her grandmother deep in the forest, about how she frequented the village once a week, about how she always wore a red hooded cape.

They called her Red. I called her mine.

She was my ideal type.

I preferred to call it watching over her. I walked her home when it was dark and I made sure nobody else approached her in case they were dangerous. She didn’t need to know I was there or what I was doing for her. I liked to think of myself as her guardian angel.

By the time she left the village, the moon already hung high and bright up in the sky. Though the colour of her cape dimmed in the night light, I knew it was her the moment I saw her skipping down the path.

She usually didn’t stay out this late. At the sight of her, I felt every knot in my body unravel.

I stayed in the shadows underneath the swaying trees until she passed me, swinging her empty basket happily. It was probably a good day at work.

The silence was broken by a string of voices trailing behind her. My ears perked, my eyes narrowing in on the three male figures following her from a safe distance. Immediately, a growl vibrated through my whole chest.

I wouldn’t let them touch her.

It was methodically and efficiently done. I didn’t want to waste another moment being left behind by her, so I finished the business and wiped the blood from my mouth as fast as I could. Already, she was out of my sight.

The forest was so dark. How could she protect herself? She needed me.

I ran all the way to her. But what I hadn’t taken into consideration was how much noise I made. My huffing and puffing disturbed the quiet, the sound of my paws pounding the ground loud and clear.

I slowed down when I saw her waiting for me in the middle of the pebbled path.

My heart beat uncontrollably as I approached her. This was the closest I’d ever been to her awake. She would find out what I looked like. What would she think of me? Would she be scared? No, there was no way she knew what I was really like. I still had a chance to run away.

I didn’t run. Instead, I called out, “Hello.”

After a painful pause, she gave me a small smile. “Hello, stranger.”

“I’m afraid I got lost.” The lies felt heavy on my tongue. “Would you mind showing me the way?”

She tilted her head, staring at me with those large, unblinking eyes. As if I passed her test, she gave a little nod. “Oh, I don’t mind. Where are you off to?”

“Just somewhere to rest for the night.”

“I know the perfect place,” she grinned, startling me with her pure-white teeth.

With that, she led me further down the path. My heart almost burst at the thought that she was leading me to her home willingly.

A glint caught my eye, something reflecting the serene moonlight my way. I glanced at her, not expecting her to smile at me again. Her guard was completely down.

“You have a nice smile,” I said. “Does that sound weird? I’m sorry, I-”

“No, no, that’s sweet of you to say.” Her voice was melodic, almost soothing.

We stopped by the side of a field dotted with glowing flowers. I didn’t recall this being on the way to her house, but seeing her face light up erased the doubts from my mind.

I asked, “Do you want to go through the field?”

She nodded excitedly. The grass was surprisingly tall, brushing my thighs as we wandered further in. How perfect could this be?

We stopped near the middle of the field, where there was a small clearing.

“Your eyes look really pretty in the moonlight,” I said. It seemed like the right moment, with her black hair shining just so. “You’re very beautiful.”

A smile took over her features once more. She was so mesmerizingly close, that I could smell her sweet, refreshing scent.

I lost my mind for a second. I bent towards her, trying to get more of her, more of anything related to her. My eyes fluttered shut as I soaked in as much as I could.

I barely caught a glimpse of a something flashing before a red-hot, searing pain sliced across my stomach.

While I was bent over, hissing, a material was tied around my limbs and mouth. Once I regained a vague sense of control, I worked to lift my head. She was facing me, in nothing but a little, black dress revealing her stark white arms. Her red cloak was used to tie me up.

Her scowl surprised me. It looked forced, like it didn’t belong on her pretty features.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Her thin, red lips were twisted into a smirk. “You haven’t been the only one waiting.”

Breathing heavily, I couldn’t move. The pain coupled with the shock rendered me helpless as I watched her run her slender fingers on the edge of the blood-smeared sword.

I’m only trying to protect you, I tried to shout around her cape. It only came out as incomprehensible muffles. Why are you doing this?

“You don’t think I know that you’ve been following me for four years now?” She raised her hand at me, the jagged slice stark against her pale skin. “Does this make you hungry? When were you going to stop playing with your food and take me whole?”

I shook my head furiously, but she ignored it. “I know what you did to my grandmother. But this time, you won’t have anyone to find you, not like I found her rotting in her bed.”

The first stab didn’t hurt as much as her words.

“Good night, wolfie.”

Nobody knew about her, about how she lived with her grandmother’s corpse deep in the forest, about how she sold wolf meat at the black market once a week, about how her red cape hid the blood stains on her clothes.

They called her Red. Now, she had my head.

It was an odd feeling being detached from the world.

You always said I was a daydreamer, which was just a nice way of saying I never listened to you. When we fought, you'd get mad at how I'd remain so blank and emotionless. I should be used to feeling left out and simply away from everything else - I mean, that was what I've been doing my entire life, right?

I thought our lives were perfect. Yes, we had our fair share of fights and we hurt each other before, but isn't that what normal couples do, too? I was still waiting for when you open your arms and welcome me back.

You always said I was too patient for my own good.

So I died, and I found you again in my afterlife, and I followed you around until I finally read past the first few chapters to the plot twist. I thought you mourned for me, but you've always been a good actor.

Wasn't it odd that you'd never chosen a different wedding hall? All the decorations I picked out, you used. Wasn't that just the oddest kind of morbid?

I watched you marry the one person I claimed I hated because you never believed me when I said I didn't understand "hate." I wondered if you even realized what you were doing. This whole thing felt like a dream, but maybe you were the one who hasn't woken up yet.

You still looked gorgeous. I couldn't help it, I never learned how it felt to be away from you, so I walked with you all the way to your honeymoon suite. I watched as you undressed, slipped fingers under skin, uttered sounds I thought only I was allowed to hear.

You still couldn't see me, yet. It's okay, I'm used to it. Whenever you got mad, you'd treat me like I was invisible. But you always broke, in the end.

You froze. "Did you hear that?"

My heartbeat spiked. I took a step towards the bed, deliberately making as much noise as I could in the stifling quiet. You sat up, arms crossed over your chest. Your spouse wrapped a comforting arm around you, whispering in your ear. You remained rigid because both you and I knew I was the only one who could calm you down during your anxiety attacks. My lips curled up at the thought.

"Hi, sweetie," I whispered in the dark, moving even closer to your bed. I couldn't tell if your shivering was because of me. "Are you thinking of me? Do you miss me, while you wrapped yourself around somebody else?"

"No, no, no," You started crying, and I smiled. You always looked cute when you were scared.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Your spouse asked, but you didn't spare them a glance. You were looking straight at me, weren't you? You broke.

I was beside you now, barely sparing a glance at the arm snaked around you. "You only deserve to be touched by me. Haven't I already told you? Have you not learned your lesson?"

"Sam, get out right now," You managed out, pulling away from your lover.

"But-"

"Get out!"

I chuckled as Sam shakingly got off the bed and exited the room. How could you marry a person like that? You didn't deserve to be feared. That wasn't your position.

"You're not supposed to be here," You said, your voice hoarse and thick from crying. Your hands were balled into tight, little fists, and I reached out to wrap my hand around yours. I wanted to comfort you, but instead, you jerked away from my touch. You cast wide, terrified eyes in my direction. "How are you - you, you're supposed to be dead! I saw, with my own eyes, I - I killed you!"

"Oh, love, I would never leave you." You were backed against the wall, my favorite position to see you in, and I reached out a hand to place on your cheek. "Not even after death."

You were full-out sobbing by now. I smiled at the sight, letting my other hand trail up your arm, past the familiar, sweet bruises to your neck.

"I only want what's best for you," I leaned in, whispered against your lips as my hold tightened. I'd like to think of that sound you made as approval, not that I ever needed it. I always knew we were on the same page. "Won't you join me, love?"