Can't I Join You?
Sua was dead.
Sua was dead. Sua was dead. Sua was dead. Sua was dead. Sua was dead. Sua was dead. Sua was dead. Sua was dead. Sua was dead. Sua was dead.
On the inside, Mizi was as dead as Sua.
Sua could not eat, and Mizi wouldn't.
Sua would never wake up, and Mizi wished it were her instead.
Sua would never sing again, and neither would Mizi. They were both birds without wings, unable to be what they were born to be.
"You have to eat," Hyuna told her. "For Sua."
Mizi stared empty-eyed at her. "I can't eat a meal without her."
Sua was her universe, and her universe had been destroyed.
The sky was collapsing, and now no birds would ever fly again.
Mizi might've liked to eat, but every time she saw the food, she was just reminded of Sua again, and it made her want to throw up. She didn't deserve to eat food that Sua would never eat again.
One night, for dinner, Hyuna brought out some sort of meat. It looked sort of tough, and Mizi asked for a knife. Hyuna quickly got her one, thrilled that she would eat again, and left the room to try and put less pressure on her.
Mizi's hands shook as she took the knife. She deserved to feel pain like what Sua must have felt. She deserved everything that came her way.
She barely felt the first few cuts, too caught up in her emotions to think at all. She raised the knife one more time.
Sua wouldn't want to see her so soon.
Mizi faltered.
Sua would want her to win.
The knife lowered.
Sua would be so disappointed if she saw her then. Mizi knew this because of how scarily willing she had been to join her. Maybe a bird didn't have to fly to be happy.
She gently set the knife back on the plate, mentally apologizing to Sua for almost disobeying her wishes that she'd said in the letters, telling her to live. Mizi wiped away a tear dripping down her cheek and stared at the wall, imagining that Sua was in the same room as her.