Chapter Five
Dear Lacey,
you must not know the feeling I get when I go out in the morning and see death smiling at me.
May you be at peace.
Day six of praying for you
What about seeing a smiling death when I open the door? I didn't recognize her at first; she didn't look like Beatrice at all, with round eyes, a round face, a childish look, two bundles of hair tied up, and two strings of hair with two strings of brightly shining stars. Could this be the God of Death? But so far, all the gods I've seen don't look like gods, but they all wear pitch-black dugongs and wander the border between life and death, stepping on the Jinghuai's time to take away the souls of human beings. "You, good?" I admit that my heart missed half a beat upon recognizing the black cloak, and some worry, no matter how well or deeply I hid it, tumbled back into this moment. She looked petite and cute and didn't look at all like a Shinigami who could wield a scythe, "Hiya, I'm Teresa, the Shinigami in charge of the 309th world. "Her well-behaved, courteous greeting made me feel even more surprised. "This one too?" I turned aside to the silver-haired teenager who came with her and asked suspiciously. Very few of the Shinigami I've met are related to humans, but he wasn't wearing a black cloak and a pair of headphones around his neck. I could still hear the rock music playing in them, so it was just a human anyway, right? "Pietro is my lover. "The young girl's attitude was blithe, as if she were just talking about a normal little thing, and her star-like eyes suddenly curled up. "He sent me here. Ohhhh, that's right, Shinigami can fall in love with humans. No, wait! I looked over my shoulder at her and said, "You are Beatrice's sister?" Beatrice had said that her sister was running this world, so it was easier to maneuver. "Well," Theresa nodded her head; perhaps it was because I was blushing too badly and writing trepidation on my face. She scrutinized me for a while, blinked her eyes, and said softly, "Don't worry about it, worry, I'm just here to see how you're doing. "Hmm?" Maybe I just woke up; my brain hadn't fully awakened yet, and I didn't react for a moment.
"I was away a while ago, and I heard from Beatrice that half a month was a deadline, so I came over to check on you," she explained, her eyes concerned. "Are you feeling okay? Any discomfort? Something akin to not being able to control this shellfish body?" I abruptly sobbed, thought for a moment, and shook my head. "Not yet," but after that, it must be, right? After all, this body is slowly festering, and there's nothing anyone can do to stop it. "Please... ..." I paused but still wanted an answer. "Where did Lacey go?" "That's something we're still investigating, and there are already some clues," Theresa said with a small, deliberate face, looking like a real administrator at this point. "There are only a few races that can snatch souls from the hands of the Reapers; although we only must take away souls at the moment of death, now there is such a mistake We also have a responsibility. I'm puzzled simply because what I thought was the fairest thing in the world is nothing more than death, but Theresa said that there are people who can snatch souls from the hands of the Grim Reaper. It's just that I hadn't thought it through because Theresa said the next thing. "Lacey Green's soul is not coming back." Theresa's voice was soft, but it fell heavily on my heart. I was silent for a moment and pursed my lips. "I know, thank you guys." Sarina had said the same thing, and I knew it was even less likely from the day I became Lacey. I just assumed that what was lost could be recovered. "But there are a lot of miracles in this world," Theresa tilted her head in thought and said fervently, "like me, like Pietro. The silver-haired teenager to the side even nodded approvingly. Confused, I cast her a questioning look, and her eyes curled up as if she'd thought of something happy: ''Pietro managed to snag the little pudding every time.'' I looked at her happy face and suddenly felt that the breakfast I had this morning was It's a bit redundant...
Theresa left a card for me before she left, saying that if I needed help, I could call the phone number on it, and I was silent as I looked at the densely packed numbers on it. Stark, Wayne, Kent, Rogers, Barnes, Xavier ...- "Why are there so many numbers?" Or different people, different addresses. "Because the ones you dial don't always get through, so just dial the next one; I'm not always in this world sometimes." That's how she explained it. I laughed and cried at this answer, but I thanked her for her kindness and put the card away carefully. I was really lucky to have met some nice humans who died. I still had a few days before school started, and I had spent those days in the house working on that cookbook, except that most of the tools I needed were still in the package that hadn't arrived. I've made two dishes in the last two days by feel, and for some reason, I'm self-conscious that it's not the best flavor, but I was disappointed when I ate them. Will the flavor be the most vivid memory? I don't know. But I had a dream, and although I have forgotten the content, I still remember the loss I felt when I woke up. I don't dream anymore. And I don't know if I wanted to dream or not. Maybe it was my memories too—what I remembered, what I still forgot, and what I shouldn't have forgotten. I waited for the needed utensils to arrive; it must have been a big package. Jacob had been very busy lately, and the last time I went to see him, he wasn't there, so I followed Billy on a fishing trip and met Charlie, who was the sheriff of Forks and Billy and Harry's friend.
I waited for the fish to be hooked, fuming while I heard Charlie and Billy chatting again. Charlie's daughter Bella was coming back to Forks for high school, and I could hear the excitement and bemusement in Charlie's words. He seemed to be agonizing over a gift to give to Bella and was looking to Billy for ideas. I was probably the only one fishing well, so I had a good catch, gave some to Harry, and took the remaining few home to make soup. Today was the last one. After a brief lunch, it was time to take my pills again. the other day, I would always forget that there was such a part to it; I had gotten used to it over the past two days. I had to drink a lot of water each time to help me swallow those pills, and even then, it was torture for me to still have the residual taste of the medication left on my tongue. I tore open the wrapper of the mints and stuffed the candy into my mouth. The sweet flavor might ease the stiff expression on my face for a couple of minutes. There was no nap sleepiness today, so I had a full afternoon, and I wasn't quite used to being suddenly free. Suddenly I thought of the small box I had turned over yesterday when I was tidying up the house, filled with all the movies that Master Eisen had so lovingly collected. I used to be a movie and TV show watcher. After all, it's the easiest activity to kill time, and I like to follow the characters' joys and sorrows. This will slow down the speed of my forgetting the emotions belonging to human beings. I don't want to become a numb soul. But it's hard for me to watch a drama in its entirety because the poor soul can't get hold of the remote control. I thought I was a moviegoer who had been staying at the movies for a while, but I didn't realize that I hadn't seen any of the old movies in Grandpa Eisen's collection, and that's right, because the world I was in wasn't the world I'm in now, and the movies were all movies I hadn't seen before. That sounded like it would be great too! I had the little surprise of discovering a new world, and I ended up picking out a rom-com to get ready to watch. Of the movie genres, my favorite is still comedy. I like the feeling of laughter; it makes me feel less lonely. Of course, I also like the suspense with a well-thought-out plot, especially the ending with a reversal, which makes me marvel at the ingenuity of the screenwriter's layout. What I don't like is tragedy, but I also have to admit that tragedy is classic and timeless. When I was a ghost, although I don't have tears in my eyes, I was still moved by being touched by a true rendition, such as now.
What a day to shed tears for someone else's love again. I also didn't think it would be such a coincidence that the pick just happened to be such a touching love movie. And it's been too long since I shed a tear. It has been a long time since I became a human being, a long time since I shed a tear. I wiped my face and couldn't help pursing the wetness at the corners of my mouth; it was salty. Yes, that's tears. I have tears too. I stared blankly at the paper towel on the table that I used to wipe my tears, once again reacting to the fact that I was now in a state of shock. I stared blankly at the paper towel on the table used to wipe away my tears and once again reacted to the fact that I was now living as a human being. The sound of a knock on the door brought me back to my thoughts. I rubbed my face, which was burning due to my emotional hair, and got up to answer the door. I sniffled, and only when I opened my mouth did I realize my voice was hoarse. "Jacob?" It looked like he was in shock and looked at me handily, "Lay, Lacey? What happened to you? Did someone bully you?" I rubbed my swollen, sore eyes and said, "No, I'm watching a movie." I sidled up to let him in, proving that no one was bullying me. And Jacob was silent when he saw the ball of paper on the table. Girls' tears—are they all this much? It was as if that very sentence was written on his face, and I was a little embarrassed, so I hurriedly gathered up the paper ball and let the snappy explanation to him go, "It's not; it's been too long since I've cried, and I didn't control the residual tear stains that made my cheeks a little tight, so I went to wash my face, and in the meantime, I put hot compresses on those eyes that were red as a spare. It looked a little miserable, not very pretty, and sort of very lousy, while Jacob was still chanting at the door, "Lacey, don't cry so hard at the movies in the future; it's not good for your health. Is my new neighbor such a nag? I emptied my brain of that one question. I pulled the door open and changed the subject: "I heard you've been busy the last few days; did you come to see me today? Is it over?"
Jacob explained, "I've been working on the pickup truck for the last couple of days, and Charlie bought it as a gift for Bella." He suddenly coughed and blushed, "Bella, you know, Charlie's daughter, we used to play together when we were kids; she's going back to Forks-. -- I narrowed my eyes and smiled proactively at his sheepish look. "Oh~ You liked her growing up because you played in the mud together as kids?" "Is it very, very obvious?" He stammered. I nodded and replied to him affirmatively, "Well, it's obvious." Not to mention the fact that I'm the one who's only just finished watching a romantic movie... "Lacey, do girls talk as minutely as you do?" He blushed even more—a blush that even wheat couldn't hide. "That's not true; I'm smarter." I shrugged and put the disk away. "Hey Lacey, you're a real..." said Jacob, who couldn't seem to find the words to describe it, and I patted him on the shoulder, "Watch more movies, ya Jacob. "And then cry like you did?" Hey, this guy, he's learning to tease me. "There's no such thing as crying!" "But Lacey, it's not good for your eyes to shed so many tears at once." Ah, this guy, I know, I know. Jacob said he'd take me for a walk in the forest, and I rolled my eyes over his face, turning my face sideways and sighing heavily. "I'm happy enough that you think of me when you're full of Bella. "Lacey, just don't tease me." His appearance is like that of an innocent boy in love, looking at me funny and perhaps with a hint of envy in the bottom of my heart. What a beautiful relationship, and only those who have the future are qualified to receive happiness, right?
"Are there little mushrooms in the forest?" I asked coldly. "Hmm? I guess there are; I don't usually pay attention." Jacob was suddenly distracted by my change of subject, and after thinking for a moment, as if he had thought of the reason why I had asked that question, he asked in surprise, "Lacey, you're not planning on going to the forest to look for mushrooms, are you?" "Why not? Maybe even find some others." I forked the little hoe over as I worked out the little basket. "You see, I have all the tools. "Lacey, you do have food on the brain!" Jacob exclaimed. "Hey guy, I'm going to give you a chance to take back that statement you just made." I pointed my little hoe at him and threatened him with a glare. "Okay, okay, do you need me to get it for you?" He offered to ask. "No, you can get it when I fill it up," I said. I do love the forest; the feeling of being wrapped in its scent was both reassuring and fork-friendly, as if I had returned to a place of familiarity and peace, and Jacob walked ahead of me, carefully reminding me of the branches and rocks beneath my feet.