Virid Blake and the last Eternitas

The Last Day

When the alarm rang, Virid was already wide awake, lying in bed.
His gaze was fixed on the ceiling, the blanket pulled up to his chest, and one foot dangling over the edge of the mattress.
It was the same dream that had haunted him for months, the one that woke him again.
He wondered if the pounding of his heart, which ripped him from sleep each time, would ever subside. By now, the dream itself bothered him less than his body's reactions.
It was as if he felt both hot and cold at the same time. His body trembled with cold, but under the blanket, it was too warm.
Unable to sleep any longer, he listened to the beeping of the old alarm clock beside him.
His thoughts swirled in his head like gray mist in the wind.
The beeping grew louder, and Virid forced himself out of bed. He sat on the edge of the bed and buried his head in his hands.

Beep...

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and ran his hand through his brown hair, damp with sweat.

Beep...

A yawn overtook him, and his gaze wandered around the room, landing on the photo of himself with his grandparents.
A photo in the park. The red leaves he was crouching in were damp and had soaked his pants at the knees. The child in the photo looked happy. A broad grin and rosy cheeks filled his face. Virid could almost hear the joyful laughter echoing in his head.

Bee...

Virid pressed the small button on the alarm clock and silenced it.
He got dressed, took his backpack, and placed it in the hallway.
The bathroom in his grandparents' house was warm and smelled of the perfume his grandmother wore every morning. Virid washed his face and hair.
He wiped the foggy mirror and looked at his reflection. His green eyes were slightly red and framed by dark circles. His face showed the weariness of the fourth consecutive sleepless night.

"Good morning," said a warm, soft voice. His grandfather stood in the hallway, already dressed in a shirt and the bow tie Virid's grandmother had given him for his birthday.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "You were..."
"...screaming again," Virid finished, a little disappointed.
"I had that dream again. Sorry if I woke you."
"You don't need to apologize," his grandfather said gently. "Your grandmother just worries, you know how she is."
He patted Virid's arm and smiled. His light blue eyes twinkled lovingly.
Then he gave Virid a couple of gentle pats on the shoulder and headed downstairs. "Come on, let's have some breakfast. You'll feel better."
Virid smiled back, rubbed his eyes one last time, and followed him to the kitchen.

In the kitchen, his grandmother bustled around, clearly in a rush.
She was two heads shorter than Virid, delicately built, with long white hair. This morning she wore an elegant violet dress, her hair pinned up.
When she saw Virid, she mumbled lovingly, "Good morning, Virid. The milk's still on the table for your cere... Garrick! What did I tell you? Not that silly bow tie when we're going to Samantha's."
It was a light blue bow tie with small red airplanes stitched onto it.
Virid's grandfather laughed and hugged his wife. "Oh come on, we're not leaving until this afternoon. Besides, you gave it to me, darling."
Virid smiled as his grandfather winked at him.
His grandmother gently pushed her husband away and smoothed her dress.
"Alright, that's true, but not for today. When we leave, I warn you, it stays here!"
Garrick smiled and kissed her on the forehead.
"Of course," he said, sitting down next to Virid.
He leaned toward Virid and whispered, "Maybe I'll bring it anyway. Aunt Samantha always gets so wonderfully annoyed when you're a little playful."

Samantha Fox wasn't really Virid's aunt, but a very good friend of his grandmother's.
She lived in the countryside, and in the summer, they often visited her.
Virid enjoyed the peace and quiet there. He often went on walks or sat in the tall grass of the meadows, where in the summer, the farmer's sheep grazed.
He much preferred the quiet and wide open space to the noise and stress of the city. But Virid didn't always get as much peace as he wanted with Aunt Samantha, as she loved to talk—a lot.
And every time she spoke to him, she inevitably brought up the subject of his parents.
But even when she talked about them, Virid rarely learned anything new.
He suspected that Aunt Samantha was more interested in learning about their death than anything else. Yet neither Virid nor his grandparents knew exactly how his parents had died.
He had no memories of them. He only knew that they had left him with his grandparents shortly before their deaths.
Virid didn't like to admit it, but it was as if his parents were strangers to him, people he had no connection to.
His grandparents knew he didn't like to talk about them, so they seldom brought it up.