puppet love

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

the main character is nervous and sensitive to sound. it's painful. he still wants to live. no he have no choice but to live!

Puppet love


Watching the whispers of screams. I think it is a secret sound for people. But I needed a sound that closed my ears, but wasn't enough, a louder sound is required to turn off the loud noise. I needed a sound that would break my skull. Like munch’s cry. I had to stand on a bridge of chaotic shades and instability, even if there is a screaming hell under the bridge ...


"My child was called to heaven. My child was loved by God. My child fled the earth. My child carried all the complaints of the world, oh boy, with that little body, my child is before me ... "


On an autumn day, a red dragonfly is flying. The dragonfly casually rested on my shoulder. I took a closer look at the dragonfly's wings. I didn't know it well because I looked sideways. When I bent my neck a little, the dragonfly flew away. Everything disappears from me and I'm sad.

“I could've been hard”

The mutter disappeared in the autumn breeze.

"My child is ..."


This word clings to my ears. The voice of the mother flows in my head. I wanted my mother to see. me. to clean the childroom. Because I felt sick. My mother got angry. With a soothing little voice. don't clean it. he children's room without my brother doesn't feel life. It just became a quiet and empty space.

Every ten minutes, the mother says, "My child is ...".


That is, 1 x 6 = 6 times in an hour. 6 x 24 = 144 times a day. It means that mom thinking of "my child". By writing it on a blank sheet of paper and calculating it, I was stunned. the moment I saw that number, my eyes trembled

"This is wrong! why! Hey. It's strange. It's impossible!"


I grabbed my excited mouth. Blank paper bleeds. My eyes sank at the point where the drops fell. At that moment, I saw a cry in the water droplets on the ball. I had convulsions. I heard the creaking sound of the bones of my face. I felt a sphenoid bone. It flaps its wings and tries to break through the skin membrane. Such an experience was new to me, and such a feeling was enough to make me forget the absoluteness of time. In other words, I fell into the illusion that I was the only one who jumped over the barriers of intelligence, broke the human skin, and knew the absolute truth with my senses. I don't want it. That thought made me think the truth. couldn't believe the numbers.



"But it's puzzling. Why did such a young child do something like that?"

Live next to the house and next to it. I heard the story of a gray-haired man. He was talking to his neighbor's wife, placing his hand on the red brush cutter and stroking his own white beard. The gray-haired man was the one I often see in the garden when I go to school. Its harsh eyes and swollen upper body reminded me of the military's past in my head. I got a strange feeling that it was youthful compared to what it looked like. I don't really like strange things. I thought Wonder. and disliked that he made a loud noise every time he saw a gray-haired man.


I ridiculed the vulgarity of its existence, wondering if it would make a loud noise on purpose.

In his cherished, well-maintained garden, poppies, anemones, California poppies, and red, blue, yellow, white, and purple petals bloom in a disciplined manner. When viewed from the side, it emerges like a painting. I was a little off guard because I liked to peek through the wooden fence.


"Yes, really. It's creepy."


"I'm most sorry for my wife. I haven't seen her in the past week. I think she's finally coming."


"Well, I didn't like that mischievous child. This time, as the same parent, I felt more painful than sympathy. Can't cheer her up?"


"No, these deep scratches will take time to heal."


there was a man who casually looked sideways while stroking his beard. I was surprised at the sudden event and ran away from the place. It seemed suspicious to me. I could've been something to blame on them.



My brother, also known as "my child," was found dead in front of his house. Three weeks ago, I searched for the bed next door and found that he wasn't there. And when I straddled the bed and looked at the window, my brother was sleeping under it. I saw it. Just under the bush in the garden seen from the children's room. The mother, who found her fallen brother, screamed. The voice spread throughout the house nearby, and in a blink of an eye it was noisy and people gathered around my house. I noticed that there was a strange girl in the crowd. And at that time she was expressionless, white and transparent. It didn't blend in with the scenery, and I was fascinated by it. I think it was appearing in my eyes at that time. Sure, she opened her mouth, reacting to that curious eye,


"Come here. You are here."


said. No, I couldn't confirm it because I couldn't hear the sound and just looked like that. It could've been drowned out by the painful mourning of her mother.



I could've been a terrifying idea. I don't remember, so I don't know anything. It was like the knight Don Quixote. However, his eyes were jealous and green. Genes that mix like a salad were not good for me as a child.

Next to the lonely tombstone where weeds grow and grow, this scenery looks like I saw it somewhere.


"I can only hope for love"


I lay down next to the tombstone and talked to him. Back to back, it was cold when I first touched it, and I didn't get a reply until the last day. It was like a rainstorm that I pulled the grass, pulled the grass in the setting sun, and inspired my withered body. it's she. She is dressed in death. "She is surely kind. Everyone visits. A kind girl."


As I warmed up over time, the body temperature made the tombstones more comfortable. I don't know anything about her. I can't see the shadow. I couldn't stop, she became betrayed and passed me. again and again,

If one of our lives collapsed, the others would collapse like a domino effect. With that in mind, I have to reload from the beginning. With that in mind, the next thing to stand is to forget hope. When I thought so, I didn't feel like standing up.



When I was next to the tombstone, I heard the sound of hitting a stone. It's midnight, so it's a misunderstanding. With that in mind, the uneven sound made noises over and over again, as if to signal the existence of something. But my feet were cold. It was like a machine that lost electricity.

The cold feet melted just before the darkness melted and the sun rose. During the night. The sound, small or big, kept ringing, and I wasn't behind the sound.

I got up and added 0 to the right side where 144 was written on the blank paper in my hand. I added it many times. Then I wrote until there was no space left and I couldn't write, and when I couldn't write, I threw it away.


"The girl is here! I can see it when I want to disappear. in short..."


Stupor. I looked around. After all, she was there. At first glance, I changed my mind.

I ran away. She was on a stone staircase on a gravel road. That alone somehow fulfilled my thoughts. I loved you. And I spoke out.


"Hey, you're the girl at that time. You're the one you don't see here. Where do you live?"


"That day. You saw me."


"Oh, I saw it"


"What did you think at that time?"


"... I thought it was beautiful"


"Even before my brother's death. I guess I thought so."


"……that is"


"I'm your brother girlfriend"


"That's a lie"


"I will never forget him."


"Do you like your brother too? Forever? I'm not satisfied? If so ..."


"  "


She has disappeared. It has disappeared like a fog.

Submitted: October 18, 2020

© Copyright 2020 hide0710. All rights reserved.

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