Memoirs

I Miss You Pt. 2 - Nightmares

The same thing, over and over: one girl, her head held high, a sarcastic expression etched firmly onto her features. She was standing at the base of a forest tree, a familiar one - the tree under which they...

They what? He couldn't remember.

A familiar tree, nonetheless - and every time, he'd step forward as though to catch her attention. She'd flash that halfhearted smile of hers, and then a beam of light would supersede the scene, obstructing her figure from view.
The next thing he knew, she'd be on the ground - lifeless, bloody.

Dead.

The same thing, every single time.
Was it a dream? Not even he knew for sure.

It was almost as though he was forced to live out the horrific event day after day, year after year without cease, a turmoil of desperation and unfinished memories. The familiarity of the situation would strike him again and again, hauntingly similar - but he could never remember what exactly it was similar to. It was like fate was toying with him, some cruel game of Figure it out, and you're free to go. Sad to say, but that time seemed to be too far into the future to reach. Perhaps it didn't actually exist at all - but he still was forced to continue with this torture, day in and day out without fail.

In a way, it reminded him of his brother, Rose, all those other people he had been forced to kill. He'd had nightmares about them before, and still did - but while those repeated every night, waking him in a cold sweat and screams, he couldn't seem to wake from this misery.

Day in and day out. A girl he only faintly remembered, hollow screams-
And then nothing. It was a restless cycle with only himself at the center.

The turning point? There was none.
A step forward in the dark was all it took to find her there, broken and bloody. No matter what he did, there was no saving this mystery girl.
What was her name, anyway? Who was she? Fragments of memories, torn asunder by disuse, still clung to his mind, useless and bewildering at best. Images of gun-wielding hunters took the scene; snarling, leaping wolves tore her to pieces, scarlet drops sparkling in the dun moonlight - and yet, he couldn't make sense of it all.

What was she to him?
What was he to her?

Maybe he'd never know.

It was a restless cycle, with only himself on its leading point. Today, too, he found her there, leaning against her tree with that same smug expression.

I'm going to die again today, it said, and there's nothing you can do about it. You'll never be free.
But today, he wasn't quite so sure.

A step forward, and the same blinding light separated them - but rather than stop and stare, as he'd done all those times before, he continued forward until he'd broken free, squinting until he saw-
Something sharp hit him on the shoulder, and he stumbled backwards, falling to his knees just in time to catch sight of three familiar figures standing before him.

The sight was enough to make him regret what he'd just done.

It was just like before: Rose and Arren, bound and tied before him, a handgun clutched in his own hands - but this time, the addition of the girl from earlier caught him off guard.
Still, he couldn't remember her, and that was what frustrated him more than anything.

"Shoot," that sniveling voice from his memories commanded, and he just snarled, wheeling around to find...nothing, absolutely nothing. "Shoot them, and we'll let you go."

They were already dead, he knew that much. Shaking hands lifted to eye level, the gun barrel bearing down on the first figure.
They're already dead, he had to remind himself as he pulled the trigger once, twice. This isn't real... But even still, he didn't feel very convinced of it.

One last victim, and here was where he drew the line. The gun clattered to the floor below, though he remained firmly upright.

"Shoot," came the voice.

"Go to hell, you bastard!" was his only reply.

A low chuckle, and a shadowy figure materialized out of the gloom to his left. A flash of metal told him just what it intended - it was like Rose all over again.
No, he couldn't let this girl die in the same way, even if he didn't know who she was.

A gunshot, and he suddenly found himself surging forward; everything slowed to a crawl, inching forward as he propelled himself across the distance separating them, until finally-
A pain erupted in his chest, and he found himself on the ground. Everything was gone except the darkness surrounding him.
Blood stained his fingertips, but he just smiled. Wasn't this what he had wanted?

A face appeared overhead, creased with worry and stained with tears - hers, that of the girl he had just saved.
"Why?" she whispered, and her voice was so familiar to him that he just smiled.

The barest flicker of a memory appeared in the back of his mind, then: that tree in the forest, dark branches looming overhead. The two of them standing there, his lips pressed over hers, desperate and heated - and suddenly, it all made sense.

Black passed over his vision, obscuring her face from view, but his smile remained unchanged as bloodstained fingers reached up to find her cheek.

"Emma," he whispered, one last dying breath. "I love you..."

Then the darkness consumed him, and he was no more.

×

Late at night, a young girl woke up screaming, eyes wide with fright. The same dream again, one she'd repeated every night without fail...

Blue eyes lifted to the moonlight shining beyond her window, stained a deep pink with her memories. A small shake of her head, and her eyes averted themselves, landing instead on her hands, lying loosely on top of the coverlet.
The same thing, over and over - his broken body, lying there in a puddle of crimson blood...

"Kato..." she whispered, tears pooling in her darkened eyes. "I miss you..."

×

Emma belongs to magicwithinthepages, not me. c: