Oblivion

Time Left Unforgotten

Rachel's POV
June 16.
Yesterday my parents were too clingy and worried about me for me to go anywhere, so I had to postpone my visit until today. Once a year, I go back to the park where Cas disappeared. Or, as close as I can get, because the park's been closed for 'construction' ever since the accident. I grabbed my keys and took a deep breath. I miss you, Cas.

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Oblivion's POV

I dreamt in my sleep. Usually I have nightmares consisting of the few memories I've gathered from this horrible place, but only occasionally do I have dreams. They are my only solid evidence that I've ever been anywhere but here. Perhaps they are just fantasies..or perhaps they're something more. But, regardless of what they are, I have little time to spare on such thoughts if I want to keep my head. One of the Moderators is entering the room. I let my eyes glance to the far corner of the room while I observe them through the corner of my eyes, trying to identify them. All of the Moderators appear exactly the same; clad in white mechanical sounding suits, with a solid metallic looking gas mask over their heads that are likely painstakingly measured to be the same size between each one. They speak using the same un-emotive voice generated from a speaker in their suits, and because of their monotonous uniformity, for awhile I found no difference between each visit. But with lots of time, and them serving as my only source of interaction, I learned to pick up on the little things such as their posture, walking strides, and occasional word choices to let me know of which individual I was dealing with.
"Wh-what do you want..?" My hoarse voice is barely audible. It sounded pathetic, though I am not weak. They have built up my muscles to an extent, likely for observation on my physical ability while completing their tests. However, at least for now, they have no use for my voice and so it's decayed from lack of use. I barely remember what it's supposed to sound like.

"Follow," the monotone voice spoke from the speaker. The restricting field I had been suspended in was turned off  and I unceremoniously tumbled to the ground. I quickly and wordlessly stood with as much speed as I could muster before obediently following the Moderator, who was now standing, weapon in hand, to escort me at the door. They used to make 4 moderators escort me, but I've proven my obedience and now they usually only send one. That fact makes me feel more unsettled than secure, so I push it to the back of my mind. Before I can contemplate any more of my actions, my attention is drawn to a loud popping sound echoing through the hall. I froze. It sounds so familiar, where have I heard that before? My forehead burned with the effort to remember as I scrunched my forehead tightly and curled my fists. The sound echoed again and the word rolled off my tongue seemingly automatically.
"Gun."
I whispered.
Similar to the device they shot me with to test my body's healing capacities, because that's the first time I remembered the word. But where did it come from? The facility rooms are soundproof, so there's no way that came from a test. "Follow me! Stop standing there!" I turned, stunned, to face the Moderator walking towards me. He..he had used his own voice. That..that's never happened. What's wrong with the generated one? Something must be happening .. something big. I backed away, a feeling igniting inside me for the first time in ages. Fear. Curiosity.

"Wh-what's going on? Is that a test? You spoke, is something wrong?" The words flew out of my mouth and it surprised me to hear my own voice attempt to grumble through the hall. What the hell am I doing? I should just-

The Moderator didn't seem enthused by my questions and opted instead to lunge towards me. Surprised, and with no time to reconsider, I dodged. This is the first time I've resisted since... since I was new...If that wasn't a dream. I wonder.. No, I must focus. I've committed to this. Whatever 'this' is. I dodged his second attempt to grab me, this time his weapon fired up and ready, but his aim was poor. He wasn't one of the offensive Moderators, he mainly seemed to administer tests, meaning I just might have a chance. Before the reload time allowed him to fire again, I had already started running towards where I guessed the gunshot may have emitted. I can do this. Don't stop. Keep your hands unclenched. Cover as much ground as you can with each stride. Another gun shot, louder this time. I almost smiled, I must have the direction right. I continued heading in that direction, allowing myself to gain confidence and speed as I rounded another hall. Even if they aren't on my side, death would still be better than living out my life through more torturous tests. Whatever happens next, I'm ready for it.
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Rachel's POV

There it was. The place she disappeared.
Or, what was left of it.
After it happened, there had been scientists of all different fields coming out with strange instruments to test the spot she disappeared, as well as inspect me, the closest person that was standing to her. They stripped this place down in every way possible, and I've recounted the event enough times that it's practically burned into the back of my eyes from thinking about it. But 2 years have passed and they couldn't find anything out of the ordinary with the place she disappeared, so instead of continuing their investigations here, 3 months ago they just packed up and made sure it stayed off limits to the public. This leaves me the perfect opportunity to relive the day in my own sadistic way, because there's no way the government would sacrifice funding to protect an old run-down Park. I threw my bag over the fence and quickly joined it on the other side. Feeling as though I was in a dream, I approached the untouched bench we'd been sitting on when everything fell apart. I unceremoniously plopped down upon it, but this time where Cas had been sitting. I closed my eyes as if sitting where she'd last been could connect me to her, and I focused on my memory of her face.
"Where are you? Cas, where'd you go?" I softly spoke and let my words drift with the wind, hoping they'd be cast off to whatever place she had gone. I felt the slickness of tears sliding down my cheeks and started running through my old theories of what might have happened, but was shocked out of my thoughts when a lick of thunder rumbled through the bench. I laughed in spite of the tears making their ways down my face, probably sounding like a choked hyena. It's going to rain. Just like that day, laughing on this bench, waiting for rain..