I do not know or care if the bullies were racists. All I knew was that when I was hurt, Akane rescued me—through her music and her love. Growing up, I’d never felt the warmth of a home. But then she’d been my home. Her large glittering eyes and bewitching smile were the closest to a feeling of family that I’d had. On that day, I didn’t know how to repay her warmth and love. And then, just a few days later, she was gone forever.
When I finally realized how my feelings had bloomed, seven years had passed since she left. She was gone before I could fully know her. A gaping void remained in my heart that longed to know her beyond her warmth and her sweet, kind face. I spent my life moving from one place to another, carrying her violin, scarf, and that photo frame. They became fragments of a soul that I could not stop loving. And, with time, they became a part of mine.
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