A hundred years had passed…
Then two hundred years…
Three hundred…
Four…
"Liar…"
I said as I added that very word in Alex's epitaph.
I have now grown old, and a few strands of my hair had already turned white.
My end was drawing near, and I could feel it, so I decided to make my own grave.
Fairies wouldn't leave anything behind when they died.
We simply cease to exist… returning to nature, just like how we were born.
Winter, spring, summer, and fall…
I waited, and waited… and the seasons passed through it all.
Sometimes, I would spend my time perched on my own grave marker, dreaming of those happy days when we were together.
I had a very strong memory, you see, so I could practically re-live those memories whenever I wanted.
They were the most bittersweet memories in my life.
My precious memories with the person I loved.
The forest had once again regained its former glory.
Trees stood tall… and a flower field surrounded the graves of my beloved humans.
