Read PEN :: Ink 4 | Tapas Community

Was a single smile really enough?

Ah, I'm just wondering… because I once heard someone say, "If only you'd smiled…" So, I wonder—if I had smiled at that moment, would anything have changed?

Thinking about it now… I wouldn’t have smiled. Why would I? We were eating quietly, and then—he took a sip from my glass without asking. He knew I hated when people used my things, let alone drinking from the very glass I was using. I stared at him, hard. I really wanted to slap him. But instead, I just pushed the glass toward him and stayed silent.

My friend later asked why I hadn’t just smiled. "It’s not a big deal," she said. "You didn’t have to look like you were about to kill him." But if I were insane, I probably would have killed him.

See, I’m one of those people who could understand the stupidest excuses for murder. Because some people deserve to be slaughtered without a second thought.

Okay, okay, don’t worry. I don’t think I’ll ever kill someone in the future. Even though… I have in the past. Heh. And yet, there’s no body.

I crack my neck slightly, then close my eyes as if I’m lost in thought. I feel a little dazed, like I want to speak but don’t know where to start.

And then—I smile, like an idiot, staring into empty space. Ah. I just remembered something.

"Ah…"

Oh, I forgot. Why am I forgetting things so easily these days? I wonder… I press my hand lightly against my jaw and, once again, stretch out on the floor.

How do my clothes look? Do they suit me? A loose, long white shirt. I’m barefoot. I’m not sure why. Maybe because I don’t like making noise when I walk.

Anyway… what does the sky look like tonight? I wonder. Is it sprinkled with stars? Or are the rains falling? What season is it?

I want to see the stars and breathe in the air. I want to run my fingers over the petals of a red flower.

And so, I smile.

Such little things make me smile.

But—I’m a murderer.

I’m Josie. A murderer.

Am I really a murderer?

Well… I’ll tell you about my crime later.

For now, let’s just continue talking about smiles. It always seems like an interesting topic. How my smile shifts—
From mischievous and foolish to something more mature and alluring,
And then… to something insane. The kind of smile you should be wary of.
Because you never know what I might do next.

That’s just how I am.

Or maybe, that’s just what I imagine.

How long has it been since I last went out? Since I last looked people in the eye?

I go out often, actually. But I always forget to focus on the things I should be looking at. Instead of meeting the gaze of the person speaking to me, my eyes wander to the window—because the noise around me is irritating. Instead of watching how their lips move, I get distracted by how they tie their shoelaces.

And I always wonder…

Why is everyone so good at tying their shoes while I have to stop every few steps to adjust mine, tying and retying them over and over again?

Even kids can do it.

Speaking of kids… I don’t know why they like me when I, on the other hand, want nothing to do with them. They’re too loud, too restless. I can’t keep up with their energy—I can barely move my fingers lightly, let alone chase after them.

But… I miss my swing.

I want to sit on a swing again. To feel the wind running through my hair as someone pushes me toward the horizon.

The truth is—I never actually smile when I’m on a swing.

I always scream.

Because the force of the push always makes me think I’ll fall.

I never enjoyed it before.

So… I want to enjoy it now.

Even if I already know—I might end up screaming instead of smiling.

Did I just smile?

No, no… not at all.

My features are barely there—
As if they’re slowly fading away.

It’s because I long to stare at the sky.
I miss it so much that I could disappear for a moment.