Sorry about so many updates, I just edited a bunch of stuff and wasn't too sure which old chapters I changed (I write on google docs and copy+paste here), so I just updated them all. In return, here's some new chapters :)
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In my dreams, I'm reminded of why I'm doing this. In my dreams, from an early age, they changed. I don't remember much from them now. Just glimpses of things. You see, there are a couple of things that might eat a person up at night. Maybe a sad moment you got reminded of, maybe words you don't understand from a person you care about, or it might just be a mystery of the past that you just can't figure out. All three are the case for me, at least once a week. I have memories that can't be true, but come so easily I have started to believe them myself. I have memories of all sorts of things.
I remember days I didn't eat, because there wasn't any food in the house for me. I remember days when my clothes felt scratchy, and heavy, the weight of the earth feeling so great it literally weighed me down.
I have memories of uncontrollable blood, with no pain. I have memories of a razor blade in my hand. I remember days I felt nothing because that is what I had taught myself to feel. I remember tears I didn't cry, and feelings of not feeling things.
I remember a girl, as pretty as a flower and named as such, being a dear friend. I remember her growing up to be a comfort for me, the child my parents had always wanted. But they had gotten me instead. Still, I was so glad she was there. I was glad for every word she told me, whether it felt as nice as laying in bed after a long day, or whether it hurt as much as the razor blade didn't. I was happy she could be given anything she wanted, like her favourite foods or beautiful clothes, or her precious jewellery. She loved it so much, she even had a necklace that looked like her namesake. I was happy she was there, and could be raised, and spoiled.
But there's something wrong there. There has to be something wrong there. These can't be real, because she died young. She died. She died, because if she didn't die, I would. If she didn't die, then this is real, along with the final memories I have that are dreams that I saw in a television show and am making up. They're made up, because if not, that means the final memory is real too.
My final memory of a red room, and a fight. A miscommunication, and a shining rose on a chain. A tight grip, and struggling, gaspy breaths, breaths wasted, wasted on words, words I didn't hear, words I don't know, words that make no sense, words words words. A terrible noise, but not as bad as the final snap, and silence, the last words I heard from the flower girl still floating around in my head like an unwanted earworm.
"I'm so sorry."
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In Flames Lie Darkness (Incomplete Fist Draft)
Action(Used to be Burning) If someone had told me that three years after my best friend went missing, I would be the one to stop the impending doom of the human race, just to bring them down myself, I would have called you crazy. But now, it seems I have...
