ODE TO THE MURDERED, bonten

56

PART FIFTY-SIX !
anarchy is the heart that grieves.

              AT FIRST, EVERYTHING WAS HARSH. in the small room you were locked in, no one entered to give you food or water. when you lay limp on the stiff mattress and closed your eyes, you were plagued with nightmares that almost kept you up at night.

    you dreamt of loved ones; the ones that came and went, the ones that were stopped by your own ends, and the ones that lingered in your mind like a drug for years. you still hear the lingering screams of your brother's desperate cries beneath the murky water—like fat condensation in your ears.

    you see the hurt crossing Mars' reddened face, you felt it in your absent skin as the warmth left her body when she died in your arms, and the look on Izana's eyes when you said you hated him—words spat out of deep-rooted hurt than anything out of spite.

yes, all of this happened because of you.

you were the reason things were going so wrong, your heart still grieved for Rindou, grieved for Ran at the tragedy of losing his other half, of Ryusei when he realized his best friend could not be saved, of Kokonoi and Mikey that—after everything—still showed you an ounce of kindness. they protected you even after everything that had happened, everything that you did and allowed to happen to them.

    you still don't know what happened to Kakucho and Wakasa when they got you out, Bonten was at the brink of losing everything—if you hadn't been here, had you died a lot sooner in your youth, you know all of this wouldn't have happened, you would not have bore to witness such heartbreaks in a lifetime.

    "that's not true."

in your dreams, beneath the influence or hell, even through sheer delusions—a familiar voice, so soft and poise cracked through the thickening brew of your downward spiral. you felt the imaginary dip of your bed, a cold hand resting on your knee,

    you looked up and saw Mars—or atleast the ghost of her—staring down at you. she asked with such a sweet sickly smile, "so is this what you wanted to happen?"

you remained quiet and she continued, "was killing me worth what you've been fighting for all this time?"

    "shut up." you told her and she laughed so softly. "hey, i was just messing with you. i know why you did what you did. it just...hurts that whatever you felt for me wasn't your real feelings."

    you mulled over her words. she noticed your stare and tilted her head, "is something on your mind?"

    "do you think there is?"

    "whenever you stare at me like that, it's like you want to say something to me." Mars answered, "you've given me those looks so many times, but you always stop yourself or shake your head whenever i ask. will you stop yourself again now?"

    "you're not real." you said instead, letting your fingernails dig sharply into your open palms. "you are dead, and i'm only hallucinating you. it doesn't matter what question i asked."

   "maybe you are right." Mars concluded. "but it does not hurt to ask, does it? why hesitate further?"

    you turned away, pondered, then finally parted your lips, "why were you angry with me, on that day in the apartment before you were shot?"