Hello. Do you remember me? It’s been so long since we last spoke, haha.
Oh, so you do! That’s a relief I’m-
Oh no, lol, I’m not Rachel. It’s E-
No, it’s not any of those, haha. Actually, I’m Emilia.
So I guess you don’t remember me, lol. That’s fine, it has been months anyways.
You have to go? Oh sure, would you like to talk next time?
Oh, so you’re busy? That’s alright, I understand.
Well, have fun then. See you!
Bye . . . , Emilia thought in her head, questioning whether or not she should send it. She looked at the header of the contact name, Stella and under it read ‘Last seen: 12:34 pm’.
I guess she’s not coming back, Emilia smiled bitterly to herself. The bed sheets ruffled as she stood up from her sleeping position. The mirror on the other side of the room showed her haggard face, hair in a mess and eyes surrounded by black. She walked over to her dressing table with a limp, not bothering to push the hair out of her face.
Emilia sat herself down with a ‘thump’ before tiredly turning her head to the desk before her. On it, was a pink brush, pink earphones in a cupcake container and a random book she never liked. She used to always come over, always forgetting things and asking for them back in the morning. There were her sticky nail polish fingerprints on all of Emilia’s hair ties and surfaces. She never knew how to properly put it on, Emilia cracked a smile, remembering.
Standing up again, she noticed all the small details of her remnants scattered around. It was like each item was glowing, begging to be found. Her black hair strands and slime splatters could be found on Emilia’s new carpet. Even though we’re both 17, she still manages to enjoy slime. That weirdo, Emilia laughed, the memories coming back to her.
This was her favourite spot in my room, Emilia thought to herself, caressing the only and only pink item in her room: a beanbag. Sticky-taped on it was a pink sign that read ‘Stella’s Property’, with more nail polish markings. Every time she came to her house, she sprinted up the stairs, pushing Emilia’s-older-half-brother out of the way and plopping herself onto the bag, doing so loud enough so everyone downstairs could hear.
Then, I’d come at her with one of my largest pillows and we’d both start this massive pillow fight before one of us needed a toilet break from all the laughing we did, Emilia recalled. She imagined as she sat across from Stella’s beloved beanbag. They’d made so many memories here. The broken mug Emilia made for her before she accidentally broke it and super-glued it together with apologetic tears running down her eyes. The sheets of music Stella wrote for her were based on their figurative sisterhood which Stella defiantly taped onto her mirror. Her broken violin strings, nail polish remover, washi tape, used-up Chanel perfume, hair bows and pearl buttons.
Everything she left behind was a constant reminder that it was Emilia’s turn to be forgotten. Emilia turned to her phone and saw a new notification. Feeling dead, she walked over to the device and opened up the app. Staring back at you were a pair of crystal blue eyes brimming brightly with happiness, black hair tied with a towel, a glass of mocktails from her pale hands and a pearl necklace so different from the one you had given her all those months ago. Next to her was a group of new, unfamiliar faces. Each one wearing a matching pearl chain.
Emilia sighed to herself, blinking back tears, Here it goes again. This damn pain.
A flick of her black hair, a swish of her fuschia skirt, ‘I’ll always love you, Emi!’