┊ Ghosts we Knew. (A+A) ;
@profmizuhara
Amélie had only visited Isaac’s grave twice since his passing. The first was a week after the funeral, when the snow had all but become a grey slush, and she needed to remind herself that he truly was gone. She found it difficult to process his death. Losing a sibling was like losing a part of yourself you had taken for granted, like your shadow or your reflection in the mirror. It had always been there, he had always been there, and she had never fathomed a life without her older brother, until he was no longer in it.
They were never extremely close. Dealing with the brunt of their family shame, along with all the other responsibilities that came with being the oldest sibling, he sometimes viewed his younger sister as a burden.
“No Amélie, not like that, you do it this way-- here, just give it to me.”
Despite it all, she missed the way those larger hands would reach over her shoulder and fix whatever problems she needed solving. He was her protector, sometimes even her father figure, and he too possessed that infamous determination that ran thick through the Im bloodline.
Isaac was everything Amélie needed in a brother.
His career was something she had never taken much notice in until it took him away from her. Of course, it was a dangerous occupation, but she was left feeling numb when the ministry officials informed them of his death. She only felt something other than disbelief was when they said he was the one casualty, and his partner had survived. White, hot rage seared its way through the grief and left only spiteful ashes; the rancour directed at the lone surviver. And after all that, she was left with an emptiness she wasn’t sure would ever be filled.
Fingers brushed away leaves from his headstone as she crouched down, removing the wilted flowers from the small vase and replacing them with the fresh bunch of white lilies in her hand. She recognised them as the same flowers she had left months ago-- her parents didn’t like to come here either.
“Hey Woo,” she murmured, a sorrowful smile appearing faintly on her lips. Talking to someone that wasn’t there was wasted words in Amélie’s opinion, but seeing as though he didn’t have anyone visit him in quite some time, she thought his memory deserved to hear something other than the silence of death.
“...it’s Jin.”
