Depression, horror, mythical.
2 мин, 0 сек 3
Seven Days.
That day, it had been raining since early morning.
Idé was sitting on a wooden bench in front of the house, watching as the water gathered into small puddles between the stones.
Haise was sitting nearby.
«Still quiet?» — he asked.
Ide shrugged.
«And you're talking again».
Haise smirked.
«So, everything's fine».
Ide looked at his brother. — why?
«Because if you can still get irritated with me, that means you're okay».
Idé laughed quietly.
That was the last time he laughed with Haise.
Haise died that evening.
Accident.
Ide found out about it first.
He stood under the hospital canopy for a long time while the rain beat against the roof.
Shizuka arrived twenty minutes later.
When she was told what had happened, she fell to her knees.
She was crying so hard that for the first time Ide didn't know what to say to her.
So he just sat down next to her.
And hugged her.
She pressed herself against him.
But she said only one thing: «Haise…».
Ide closed his eyes.
He also wanted to say his brother's name.
But for some reason, he couldn't.
The first day.
The house has changed.
In the kitchen.
Black.
Dark gray.
His skin had turned almost white.
Haika stopped.
«Ide?».
He turned around.
«Good morning».
«Where's Shizuka?».
Ide looked at the kitchen door.
«She's not here».
Haika felt a chill.
«What did you do?».
Ide didn't say anything.
Haika slowly walked up to him.
«Ide…».
He looked her straight in the eyes.
And for the first time all week, his face looked completely calm.
«I understand, Grandma.» — what?
He replied: «Why was Haise happier than I was?».
Haika took a step back.
«Idé…».
He continued: «Because he no longer had to wait for someone to notice him».
Haika understood.
It was too late.
She rushed to the door.
But Idé didn't stop her.
He just stood in the middle of the kitchen.
And watched her go.
A few hours later, the house was empty.
That evening, Ide was sitting in Haise's room.
The same photograph lay before him.
Two brothers.
In it, Haise was smiling.
Ide was too.
He ran his finger along the edge of the photograph.
«I'm sorry».
Silence.
«I didn't want it to turn out like this».
He closed his eyes.
And suddenly he heard: «You're taking too long».
Ide opened his eyes.
In front of him…
That day, it had been raining since early morning.
Idé was sitting on a wooden bench in front of the house, watching as the water gathered into small puddles between the stones.
Haise was sitting nearby.
«Still quiet?» — he asked.
Ide shrugged.
«And you're talking again».
Haise smirked.
«So, everything's fine».
Ide looked at his brother. — why?
«Because if you can still get irritated with me, that means you're okay».
Idé laughed quietly.
That was the last time he laughed with Haise.
Haise died that evening.
Accident.
Ide found out about it first.
He stood under the hospital canopy for a long time while the rain beat against the roof.
Shizuka arrived twenty minutes later.
When she was told what had happened, she fell to her knees.
She was crying so hard that for the first time Ide didn't know what to say to her.
So he just sat down next to her.
And hugged her.
She pressed herself against him.
But she said only one thing: «Haise…».
Ide closed his eyes.
He also wanted to say his brother's name.
But for some reason, he couldn't.
The first day.
The house has changed.
In the kitchen.
Black.
Dark gray.
His skin had turned almost white.
Haika stopped.
«Ide?».
He turned around.
«Good morning».
«Where's Shizuka?».
Ide looked at the kitchen door.
«She's not here».
Haika felt a chill.
«What did you do?».
Ide didn't say anything.
Haika slowly walked up to him.
«Ide…».
He looked her straight in the eyes.
And for the first time all week, his face looked completely calm.
«I understand, Grandma.» — what?
He replied: «Why was Haise happier than I was?».
Haika took a step back.
«Idé…».
He continued: «Because he no longer had to wait for someone to notice him».
Haika understood.
It was too late.
She rushed to the door.
But Idé didn't stop her.
He just stood in the middle of the kitchen.
And watched her go.
A few hours later, the house was empty.
That evening, Ide was sitting in Haise's room.
The same photograph lay before him.
Two brothers.
In it, Haise was smiling.
Ide was too.
He ran his finger along the edge of the photograph.
«I'm sorry».
Silence.
«I didn't want it to turn out like this».
He closed his eyes.
And suddenly he heard: «You're taking too long».
Ide opened his eyes.
In front of him…
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