I'm writing a song fic for the first time, please be kind.

She sat unto the green bermuda grass and inhaled the distinct smell of the green lawn. She looked around the cemetery—it was clean and well maintained. It was getting dark, and she stared unto the lampposts. For each pathway, there were approximately six lampposts. They were elegant and had Spanish-inspired curvatures. Moments later, the lampposts were lighted and a dim light emanated from it. Then she snapped.

"Not bad, eh?" she whispered as she lit the candle with a black lighter.

She tenderly brushed the dead leaves away from the cold stone piece, and planted the lighted candle unto it.

I squatted above the tombstone, right in front of her. She was about to deliver her annual ceremonial speech, and I was going to listen intently.

She flickered the lighter a couple of times, entertaining herself with the small flame. "Oh well. Summer vacation has just ended. Stupid summer sun, I can't go out of the house because my skin will get burned. And hey, I was able to completely quit smoking, just like what you wanted. I don't want my smooth lips turn purple."

Since when did you become so vain?

"And by the way, school starts the day after tomorrow. You should have seen the subjects for this year. I'm sure it's going to be hell."

Would it be better if I was still around?

"That stupid Spanish class…and that damned calculus…oh how I hate that…I wish you were here to teach me like you did in trigonometry…" and she flashed her trademark cynical 'smile'.

So you're seeing your loss only now.

"Our stupid flirty girl classmates can't believe that you like me, 'Why her? Of all the girls…she doesn't even know how to do her nails!' they'd say. Sheesh, those brainless girls are just so stupid to think that I don't deserve such attention from you. It just so happened that you are intelligent enough to appreciate the real beauty, which is in me. I don't even need to wear those slut clothes or paint my face pink. Don't forget my IQ of 135, which isn't maximized in academic performance. See? I'm a natural. A God given gift to you and to the world…"

God, crush her ego. Just crush it.

"I knew I should have taken some of your cells. I'd mix your DNA with my own—to create a new intellectual being. Imagine, your mathematical and musical genius plus my artistic prowess and photographic memory…whatever comes out of it is the ultimate genius! That's artificial human asexual reproduction…I'd be regarded as the youngest, most beautiful and most artistic Nobel prize winner ever…"

The idea of raping me has always been in your subconscious. I knew it.

"Oh. I've fully convinced myself. I'm going to study harder now in hope of finding stupid fulfillment. I think this course is really for me. I can't feed my kids with my paintings and pencil shavings…and besides, I want to continue and live your dreams along with mine."

I sensed an implied resent in the words. I shift my gaze away from her.

"If you should have known, I'm wretched and it grows everyday. Seeing your empty seat, stupid professors calling your name for attendance, stupid dark green cars, the sea, the stupid, stupid rain…I hope you're happy wherever you are right now, coz if you hadn't known better, a year doesn't make any difference. I'm good as dead here."

Don't believe that it's better when you leave everything behind,
Don't believe that the weather is perfect the day that you die

I stood up, still looking away. Will she ever get rid of that nasty attitude? I guess I wouldn't grow immune even if I'm already dead.

"You're already dead. Why am I even talking to you? How amusing." She continued.

I stared blankly into nowhere. She then began uttering "Hail Mary, full of grace…"

Her prayers lightened the air. After praying, she stood up and pulled from her pocket a piece of folded paper. She took a small piece of rock and used it to weigh the paper down into the tombstone.

"Read that if you can, freak." She said.

It was completely dark now, and she rubbed her arms for warmth. She smirked in the realization. It was a cemetery. "It was supposed to be cold during evenings," she said out loud. The candle she lit remained burning as it stood on the tombstone faithfully, and created a lasting image in her mind.

"I'm leaving now. Don't burn in hell."

I watched her as she walked away, her arms swinging casually into the air. She seemed to be okay now and had regained her ever-so-strong self-composure. She's ill tempered, sardonic, demanding, egoistic, possessive and all those despicable things you could think of. And yet, through death I still, and probably would love her forever.

She's out of my vision, for now. I saw the note she left earlier, and to my own dismay, I was innately pulled to read it. I thought souls were free from these kinds of emotions, or from the mere idea of emotion itself, but I guess I was a different one when it comes to her. And so I read the said note. And there, it had, the words I longed to hear, the words I longed to hear as I breathed my last…

Is this real? Did she really write this?

I let go of the paper and it had flown with the wind. I looked up into the sky and called unto the heavenly creator. Why does He have to let me know these things? Why can't I just die?

He did not need to answer. I knew what this is.

Walk past my grave in the dark tonight,
Saw the stone and the note you left for me,
to answer your question I just had to leave,
I just had to leave

After hearing her speech my self-imposed tranquility was shattered. That little devil. How could she think that I'm happy, and that I'm enjoying? Despite of the tempting offers, I couldn't forget. Ironic, isn't it? Damn this heart. It should have been smashed and torn into pieces during the accident so that little devil wouldn't haunt me like this. What she wrote in the paper could have been just a joke.

It has been exactly a year since I've died. A year since that car accident that took my "progressing" life. Even so, I couldn't have regretted my decision. I'd rather die than her. But sometimes, I wish I had more time.

"Fuck the rain." She said mentally as the rain poured down. She managed to skillfully board a jeepney despite their rare passing in the near highway.

I followed her. For some reason, I was allowed to. It was raining and she had no umbrella, and so she had to run from the moment she came off the jeepney until she reached their house. It always rained on this day, and for the past year, she hasn't learned her lesson of bringing umbrellas. Cold, tired and wasted, she weakly called for someone to open the locked door. She started to hate the rain only because it reminiscent of my death and made her cry every time. But the rain, to me, brought about a different memory, even when I was still alive. The rain was always associated with her.

If she should have known, it always rained in heaven.

But that's not why I'm here,
I came down here to tell you it rains in heaven all day long,
I wanna find you so bad and let you know
I'm miserable up here without you, miserable up here without you

She opened the door to her room. If I hadn't known her better, her room looked like a junk shop. The ceiling light was flicked open. To my surprise, the room didn't look like a junk shop at all. The floor was polished, and totally dust-free. Then I noticed the new wall. Sketchpad papers were stuck unto the wall, just like wallpaper. The pieces of paper had sketches and paintings on them, most of which I could recognize—places, familiar objects and such. And there was one familiar face I saw. There were many sketches and portraits of him, on different angles and the likes. My vision spun. Like how I felt before I died. Then it hit me. That person was me.

A smile formed on her lips as she gazed on one spot on the wall.

"It's raining, just like a year ago…" she said in a muffled voice. Affectionately, touched the piece on the wall, which was another sketch of me. It was drawn in ink on a notebook paper, meaning that it was drawn when she was drifting away during class.

She laid flat on the bed and stared blandly at the ceiling.

For a moment, I thought she was already seeing me.

"If I paint him in my ceiling, would it make me feel better?" Her face was suddenly colored with bitterness. She pressed her eyes close.

So she wasn't. How I wish she did.

There was a distinct change in her aura from the moment she came into the room. A soft and melancholic demeanor replaced the sarcastic feel; it was unusual for her, and it was drowning me.

I felt the strength of sadness that came from her. It's weird how souls can sense these kinds of things. Tears escaped her closed eyes. Soon enough she was sobbing, and consciously covered her mouth. When I died, she cried, screamed curses and claimed that she hated me. It really never came to me that she was this sad. The words written in the note could have been true after all.

I wanted tell her how stupid she looks. I wanted her to stop crying. I wanted to take her in my arms and lull her to sleep. I wanted to assure her that I love her more than eternity could offer. I wanted more…but I can't. I'm dead.

My own repressed emotions had come to surface…can souls cry?

Found my way back in the dark tonight,
Couldn't wake up not right next to you,
I'd trade in forever to just hear you say the sound of my name

"God, I can't find the reason why you had to take him away…he was everything…"

I smiled bitterly as I lay beside her. Again, I remember what was written in the paper. I lay beside her, as close as possible. My hand held her free hand; my heart was breaking in misery. I could feel her but she couldn't feel me. There were so many things I wasn't able to do and so many things I wasn't able to say. If I told her that I loved her more than once, things could have been better. So much for the regrets, they're of no use now. The only thing for me to do is—is what?

But that's not why I'm here,
I came down here to tell you it rains in heaven all day long,
I wanna find you so bad and let you know
I'm miserable up here without you, miserable up here without you

She should have known the ironic state I am in. She should have known that what I wanted was just to be with her. She should have known I love her more than what I've made her feel. She should have known.

I kiss her. I never kissed her in my earthly life; I was afraid. I kiss her now; just a light peck on her lips, in desperate measures of feeling her humanly warmth, in desperate measures of making her feel, in desperate measures of relieving myself from the curse of immortality.

"I love you." I whisper in her ear.

"I love you too." She replied.

The rain poured from the heavens harder.

I hear the rain talking outside the window.

Don't believe that it's better when you leave everything behind,
Don't believe that the weather is perfect the day that you die