I reached out and took Alice's little hand. Her hand was ice-cold, yet as smooth and delicate as congealed fat.
Alice shivered continuously, and her lips had lost their usual vitality, replaced by a chilling purple. The only thing unchanged was her gentle eyes, gazing at me as softly as a warm spring breeze, a gaze so clear that not a trace of gloom could be seen within it. She knew her own fate, yet there was still not a shred of fear in her eyes.
My eyes grew moist once more...
Alice weakly curved the corners of her mouth and murmured, "Every day Alice spent with Daddy... was as sweet as eating peppermint candy..."
"Alice loves... napping on Daddy's shoulder, and Alice still wants... Alice still wants to play the... flower-picking bandits with Daddy, hehe... hehe, cough, cough, cough..." Alice suddenly broke into a violent fit of coughing, blood relentlessly overflowing from the corners of her mouth, staining the snow-white pillow, and then soaking into her golden hair like a blooming golden blood chrysanthemum...
I hastily patted Alice's violently heaving chest, my tears dripping onto her little face, only then noticing that her face was covered in a fine layer of sweat. Enduring agonizing pain, she still managed to squint her eyes and look at me tenderly.
"It's okay, Dad... dy, Alice... is very strong, you know," a clear tear welled from the corner of her eye. "Ali... ce loves Daddy so much. Everything about Daddy... Alice loves it all. Alice loves the stories Daddy tells, Alice loves the meals Daddy cooks, Alice loves it when Daddy reads with Ali... ce. Alice... Alice hates morning exercises, because... when doing morning exercises, Daddy always went off to do other things and couldn't stay by... stay by Alice's side..."
I listened in silence, trembling, to Alice's words. Her voice was so small it was almost inaudible, but to me, it was deafening.
Pale spots were creeping onto the corners of Alice's eyes. I reached out and gently rubbed the half of her little face covered in white patches, as if doing so could wipe away those hateful demons that brought suffering to my daughter. "Daddy..." Alice's voice grew even weaker, her gaze becoming more hazy. "Alice is so sleepy... really so sleepy, Daddy..."
"Don't sleep... Alice, I beg you, don't... don't close your eyes... Look at Daddy again... Please, Alice." I gently gathered Alice into my arms, my tears dampening her disheveled golden hair. I saw, among the golden waves of her hair tips, something resembling a crest of snow-white foam stirring—that trace of pale silver, looking so heartbreakingly familiar...
I clutched tightly at that demon-like strand of silver, my eyes burning red with congestion. It was this very patch of silver-gray that had taken away my beloved, and now... was it going to take away my own flesh and blood?
Once again, Alice's somewhat hoarse yet still gentle voice rang in my ear: "Dad... dy, Alice still has so many, many... dreams. Alice... still wants to listen to Uncle Gibbs's stories with Daddy, Alice still wants... to ride on Daddy's shoulders to Grandfather Barus's farm, Alice still wants... wants Daddy to hold her hand at the beach... still wants to do so many, many things... It's just a pity there won't be a chance anymore..."
A warm and wet sensation touched my cheek as Alice's large, teardrop-sized pearls pattered down and shattered against the wooden floor, every single sound so distinct that it sent sharp, piercing pain through my heart...
"Daddy... Alice doesn't want to die... Alice still wants... Alice still wants to live on with Daddy... Cough, cough, cough..." Shaking violently with emotion, Alice spat out another mouthful of blood, her breathing growing fainter and fainter.
I tried to prop myself up to look at Alice's face, but a small, cold hand pressed against my head. Alice's gentle voice was filled with sheer exhaustion, like a spoiled child just waking from sleep, whispering close to my ear: "Just... just hold me for a little longer, just a tiny bit longer... Daddy."
I froze right there, burying my face in Alice's small, narrow shoulders, trembling violently. The room was chillingly quiet, a deathlike stillness that left me desperate and helpless. Alice lay quietly in my arms, and the room was filled with nothing more than my own soft whimpers.
I was terrified of not hearing Alice's voice, yet equally terrified of hearing it, afraid that what I would hear would be words of farewell...
...
I still ended up waiting for the sound I feared most. Alice laboriously turned her small head, gently brushing against my cheek, and stamped a bright plum blossom upon my face.
"Farewell... Daddy—"
I looked in terror at Alice's face. She just stared at me as the gentle light in her eyes gradually dimmed, until the breath of life vanished entirely. Her brownish-yellow pupils slowly dilated, and finally, even the last faint gleam in her gaze faded away into nothingness...
Alice... my daughter, died right here in my arms, dying so quietly... as if she had merely fallen asleep.
I stared blankly at Alice's motionless little face, my mind completely blank. Boundless loneliness and bewilderment swallowed my consciousness, yet my eye sockets were as parched and terribly dry as if I had cried every tear I had. I wanted to cry, but felt a calmness so profound it even felt unfamiliar to myself.
My daughter was dead... My sun had gone out... The very last ray of dawn in my world had dissolved...
A breeze rustled the curtains, and the curtains danced in the spring wind, letting out a mournful wail, like a farewell song played for Alice—
A sharp crash came from the living room, as if something had fallen and shattered. Holding Alice, I walked out of the room. In the middle of the living room floor, right where Alice used to play with her building blocks, stood the blocks she had once arranged to symbolize our family...
Now, only the tallest block still stood there, while the floor was littered with scattered fragments.
Those were the blocks symbolizing Alice and Clara... piled brokenly on the floor. I clumsily tried to put them back together, only to accidentally knock them over with a clumsy slip of my hand. I quietly looked at the little faces Alice had drawn on the blocks with crayons; one of them was quietly smiling with squinted eyes, a smile that seemed to gather all the gentleness in the world, while the other smiling face was so innocent, clear as a lotus fresh from the water. They lay quietly there as the sunset coated their faces in a layer of darkness, looking so desolate... Only the tallest block still stood tall, its shadow stretched long and thin by the setting sun...
Outside the window, upon a tree not far from Arthur's cabin, perched a completely golden little bird. Gazing at Arthur's desolate back, she silently shed a single clear tear. The tear struck the ground, and instantly gave birth to a patch of tender green grass...