The Unseen Guardian

A Ghostly Presence

Lefty's POV
Some random angelic figure had bestowed upon me the gift of my lost memories. I was a pitiable soul, having suffered the torment of amnesia and the ultimate tragedy of death. However, this angelic being showed compassion and empathy, declaring, "You poor thing... Losing your memories and dying is the worst thing... I know! I'll give you your memories back!" And so it was, with those words, that I regained my complete recollection of everything-the circumstances of my demise, the memories of my dearest friend Molten, my companion Bryan, and all the other intricate details of my past. Immediately after regaining my memories, I felt compelled to visit Molten. I remember him being utterly despondent when he realized that I would never return. My death had left an indelible mark on him, and he couldn't overcome the grief and loss he experienced. A part of me couldn't help but feel responsible for my own demise. Perhaps if I had tried harder to hold on to life, or if I had chosen to be with Molten instead of staying at the Laugh House, things might have been different. But then again, if I had survived, I would have lost all memory of Molten and the other cherished individuals in my life. I didn't want to forget them; they were my dear friends. From the vantage point of a ghostly observer, I watched Molten's unwavering commitment to staying by my grave. He refused to leave my side, and it pained me deeply to witness his sorrow. I longed to embrace him, to let him know that I was still here, but my incorporeal form rendered me incapable of physical contact. "W-Why is it so cold suddenly..?" Molten inquired, sensing a spectral presence. Attempting to communicate, I asked, "So you can feel me sorta?" Yet, I knew that my words would remain unanswered, lost in the divide between the living and the departed. To my surprise, Molten rose from his place beside my grave and temporarily departed. "Be right back, Lefty," he reassured, leaving me to wait expectantly. Patiently, I bided my time until Molten returned, carrying decorations and items in his arms. "Ooo! Are we decorating my grave?" I inquired, fully aware that my voice and inquiries would forever go unanswered. Molten, with his steadfast dedication, proceeded to hang lights above my resting place, skillfully connecting them between two trees. He then planted beautiful flowers beside my grave and positioned a cactus on top of it. The sight filled me with an overwhelming sense of happiness, but it also made me question my desire to move on. No, I didn't want to leave Molten; I wanted to wait for him. I wished to be together, even if it meant an eternity of waiting. I was willing to wait until the end of time itself, just to rest alongside my best friend. "I miss you, Lefty. I... I really do," Molten confessed, burdened by the weight of guilt. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more. Maybe if I tried harder... Oh, who am I kidding? You probably hate me. But maybe not. You'd probably say something like, 'Don't blame yourself! It's not your fault! I forgive you for trying!'" Molten's words struck a chord within me. I responded with a heavy heart, "I do... I remember you... I remember everything... I'm not mad at you... I really do forgive you, bud... you tried so hard to save me..." Tears welled up in my ethereal form as the magnitude of his misconception overwhelmed me. He believed that I harbored hatred towards him, yet I could never hate my best bud, not in a million years. Molten proceeded to confide in me, sharing his recent struggles. Bryan's demise, coupled with my own, had made life exceedingly difficult for him. He revealed how Bryan had valiantly sacrificed himself for Molten, taking a laser bullet that pierced through his vital organs. To preserve his essence, Molten had transformed Bryan into an animatronic like us, but regrettably, Bryan had lost all recollection of his past. Now known as Showtime Steve, he existed without memories. My heart ached at this revelation, and I expressed my hope, saying, "My god... I hope he'll remember you soon." Molten's pain reverberated in his voice as he continued, "I... I just hope he'll remember me sometime soon. I'd rather have one friend remember me than both of them forget who I am..." At that moment, I yearned to embrace Molten, to provide solace and reassurance. I wished to tell him that I was still here, that everything would eventually be okay. With a flicker of hope, I reached out to hug him once more, but I knew that my intangible form would only pass through him. "Lefty...? Is that you?... Are you the one who's trying to hug me...?" Molten's voice resonated with a mix of disbelief and longing. I understood that I couldn't reveal myself outright; he wouldn't be able to perceive or hear me. "Oh, who am I kidding... You probably have already moved on already. I'm probably just imagining things," Molten concluded aloud, unaware of my presence. It pained me deeply to witness Molten's profound sadness. He despised displaying vulnerability in front of others, yet he felt comfortable revealing his true feelings in my presence. Hence, when he shed oily tears during my funeral, it surprised those who attended. Regrettably, I was devoid of my memories during that somber occasion, and I couldn't fathom the grief and mourning that surrounded my passing. Seeing Molten weep broke my heart, for I knew that I would experience the same anguish if he were the one lost instead. I had been Molten's first and truest friend, and now, with both Bryan and me gone, he had no one left. Although I lingered as a ghostly presence, he remained oblivious to my existence. A part of me wished desperately that he could see me, as that might bring him some solace and alleviate his burdened spirit.