Wild Young Miss: Mister, Let's Kiss!

Why was I born?

I had been asking that, even during my last moments. Life for me has been very difficult — especially unfair. Being born just to get raised with violence. Had people wanting me dead, and lost people who actually mattered in my life. 

All my life, I've been walking in darkness, finding my way home. I've searched and searched for something I didn't know yet. 

To fulfill, to satisfy, to forgive, and to have an answer. In my first life, I deluded myself that I achieved them. 

I didn't. 

In my second life? I thought I found it, but no, I didn't. If I did, I wouldn't ask that question once again. That question wouldn't even cross my mind again while I watch his tears fall from his eyes.

But now, back in this long darkness, I finally got it. Ironic, I know. That the answer I've been seeking to find was just here all along; it has always been with me all along.

There's no answer. Being born was not my option nor a question to seek some answer. 

It was not important. What was important was how to live it. 

Being born from sin might not be my option, but living was my responsibility. Whether my life would be filled with dread and agony, it was my option. 

And love… I shouldn't have desperately sought it from someone else first. To fulfill, to satisfy, to forgive, and to have an answer, I should've loved and cherished my life first.

If I loved myself first, I could love him sincerely. I'm not saying my love for him was not sincere. I'm saying, I could've loved him selfishly and accepted this love completely.

Without the slightest regret, with this selfish love, I'd drag him to be my life or die partner. Instead of just… dying alone.

That's cold and lonely. It was foolish to realize it now. Maybe, a little late too. 

But I can't help but smile as I finally see the light of the end of the tunnel. After a long, dark, and tiring journey, there's finally light in my sight, albeit faint.

I'm finally at peace, Matt. 

I'm home. ]

Her eyes slowly and weakly opened. Her vision was blurry. All she could hear was her heartbeat through the machine that monitored her heart's rhythm.

Footsteps came in — frantic footsteps. She heard indistinct voices. Some were calm, others were… panicking. She was convulsing while the group of medical personnel stabilized her vitals.

"What… what's going on?" Matthew asked that came out almost as a whisper.

He wanted to rush to her side, but all he could do was step back. In front of him was a comatose Zoey. Yet, despite being almost skin and bones, her body was shaking violently.

"She'll be fine." Zion held him by the shoulder, afraid that Matthew would rush to her and disturb the doctors.

"She's been fine for months. She'll be fine."

Zion added under his breath. However, his words almost sounded as if it was for him as well.

Zoey had been in a coma for months. It was a miracle that the bullet missed her vital points. However, she had lost a lot of blood, putting her on the brink of death.

But even after declaring that she's out of harm's way, Zoey never woke up. They waited for days and nights, weeks, and then months, but she never woke up.

"Zoey…" Matthew called out in distress.

Not long after, the doctors finally heaved a sigh in relief. They informed Matthew and Zion that her vitals were stable once again. However, that didn't reassure Matthew's heart.

When the doctors left, Matthew stood rooted in his position. The bags under his eyes came evident, as his gaze was fixated on her.

Zion slowly took a step back. Looking at Matthew who had been working in this same room for months, barely going out, made him sigh.

Matthew surely loved his sister more than Zion expected. Thus, even without a verbal blessing, Zion had entrusted Zoey to him and respected him as a man.

"I will come back tomorrow. You should…" Zion trailed off as another sigh escaped his lips. 

He wanted to tell Matthew to rest as well. But he knew that wouldn't happen. Matthew wouldn't listen.

That's why Zion kept those words to himself and silently left. When he was by the door, he looked back once again and sighed.

Once Matthew was left alone, he dragged his feet towards her. He would never get used to seeing her have a seizure for unknown reasons.

Gazing down, Matthew carefully reached for her hand. He was tired, not of waiting, but tired of being afraid that at any moment, the doctors would look at him apologetically, telling him she couldn't make it.

"Zoey…" Matthew whispered, holding her hand with both his hands as he squatted down. "Please come back to me, love."

He whispered, leaning his forehead on their hands. "Please? Come back to me no matter how long it will take. I'll wait. Just…"

Matthew choked as his shoulders trembled. He didn't mind spending the rest of his life by her side. He would wait even if his hair was all white and his skin started to wrinkle. As long as she would come back to him.

Matthew would wait.

"Just don't give up. I won't give up on you, so don't give up on yourself. Never again, hmm?" He remained in his stance for a long time.

Silence returned as the sound of the heartbeat monitor filled the air. This sound had been the music in his ear that soothed him for months. 

It was the sound that assured him that she was still there. Somewhere, figuring out her way back to him. But it was just hard on days like this. It was hard to keep it all in.

It was just hard beyond words. It made him feel helpless.

"I… I heard you." 

Matthew's shoulder stiffened as he slowly raised his gaze. There, a pair of eyes weakly blinking at him. A subtle smile resurfaced on her lips.

"I," Zoey paused as her throat felt parched. But she continued anyway.. "I'm… home."